In the Course of Human Events
by BerkieLynn
Summary: "What is she thinking? Uprooting her life, leaving the only town she's ever called home, and, even worse, dragging her father along because she's too selfish to leave him behind. But the new job should excite her. And it does. Secret Service Agent? It's a leap she never thought she'd take." Based on a prompt from the castlefanficprompts tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

_The real rulers in Washington are invisible, and exercise power from behind the scenes._

 _Felix Frankfurter_

 **X**

 _There are a number of things wrong with Washington. One of them is that everyone is too far from home._

 _Dwight D. Eisenhower_

* * *

NEW YORK CITY

"That's the last of it, Katie." Jim's voice is low and even, as if he's trying not to spook her and really, it's a good call. Because she is. So very spooked.

What is she thinking? Uprooting her life, leaving the only town she's ever called home, and, even worse, dragging her father along because she's too selfish to leave him behind.

Okay, and because there's an amazing rehab facility that even he's excited to go to. And that above all should be enough of a reason to not be so spooked. That her father is excited to take control of his alcoholism.

But the new job should excite her. And it does. Secret Service Agent? It's a leap she never thought she'd take. And yet…

"Katie?" He places hesitant fingers to her elbow and she finally turns from the window, sucks in a breath at the sight of her empty apartment before her. She releases the air from her lungs, takes a slow pull of air through her nose and locks eyes with her father.

"I'm ready."

* * *

WASHINGTON, D.C.

"Sir?"

At the sound of his assistant's voice, Rick turns from the window, tearing his eyes from the inviting lush green of the lawn. He would much rather be out there, taking a nap in the sun.

"Director Rancic is here for his meeting."

Except that his job is getting in the way.

"Ellen, what color lightsaber would you have?"

"None, because I'm not a Jedi. There are no Jedi here, sir, this is the White House." Her answer comes swiftly and without reproach; the woman is quite skilled at derailing his non-sequitur questions which is why he hired her all those years ago for his Senate office. It was a no-brainer to bring her along to sit outside the Oval Office. Everyone knows that if you don't have a meeting, you're not getting past Ellen to see the President.

He frowns at her. "Fun ruiner."

"Someone has to keep you in line when your daughter's not here. Shall I show the director in, Mr. President?"

"Fine." He doesn't miss her smirk at his petulant tone.

"Rick, how are ya?" the Secret Service director calls out jovially as he enters, offering his hand in greeting.

"Ed, can we hire a few Jedi?" is his form of a reply as he gives a hearty handshake before motioning to sit.

"Well, I'm open to the idea," he muses as he settles on a sofa. "But I don't know any. Have anyone in mind?"

"Nah, I was hoping you did. But seriously, how cool would I look flanked by guys with lightsabers? I'd definitely have to get Alexis a Queen Amidala costume."

"Speaking of Alexis…"

"Oh, right, you are here for a reason, aren't you? 3:15, meeting with Secret Service Director."

Ed chuckles as he pulls a few files from his briefcase. "Some of us do work around here."

"Hey, I'm leader of the free world. I work."

"Before I showed up, how long were you thinking about Jedi?"

"'Bout half an hour," Rick admits sheepishly.

"I thought so. I have a couple options for Alexis's new detail," Ed starts, placing a file on the table between them and flipping open the cover. "First guy-"

"No. I told you I want a woman, Alexis has been surrounded by enough men, I want her to see a strong female on a daily basis."

"He's a good agent," he presses.

"Then give him a good detail but it won't be with my daughter."

"Fair enough." Ed sets the file aside and replaces it with another. "Kendra Winecroft, just finished at Quantico a month ago, recruited by one my best agents. She has a great skill set."

"But no experience," Rick points out.

"But no experience," Ed admits.

Rick shrugs and the file is moved wordlessly, replaced by the third and final folder from the director's hands.

"Katherine Beckett," he introduces. "She was a police officer in New York City and was referred to me by a friend from the FBI who worked with her on a case. She was a hairsbreadth from being promoted to detective when we lured her to the Dark Side." He grins, pleased with himself, before continuing. "She's strong, smart, tested off the charts when we asked her to think outside the box. The case in New York involved a kid and Beckett moved mountains to get him back. Everyone on the case said they wouldn't have got him back if not for her."

Rick's impressed but… "That's just one case." He takes the file to look over. "She's young. For an agent."

"You're young for a president," Ed volleys back.

He grins. "I'm ambitious."

"Same could be said about her."

Rick flips the page and is greeted with a photo of a stunning brunette. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, leaving her face open to proudly display her moss green eyes, high cheekbones and full mouth. He clears his suddenly dry throat, tries to cover it with a cough but can see Ed lean forward out of the corner of his eye. Rick's interest is not lost on the man. But he needs to be interested in more than just her face. He forces himself to flip the photo over and read on, scans commendations and glowing recommendation letters. She does seem impressive.

"This is the one?"

"I think she'd be a good choice." Ed shrugs, nonchalant.

He narrows his eyes. "You already had her picked out. The others were just for show; you knew I'd say no."

The director gathers his other files and deposits them back in the briefcase, locks it up tight before standing. "I brought some options of capable agents for you to peruse." He shakes his head when Rick tries to hand Beckett's file back. "That one's for you. Look it over close, make sure you're okay with it. She doesn't report for a few days and she doesn't have an assignment yet so she doesn't ever have to know if you say no.

"I really don't think you should though," he calls from the door before leaving.

Left alone with his thoughts and the file, Rick opens it back up to her photo. Her eyes pierce into him again. She's beautiful ("Too beautiful to become a cop," he thinks), there's no denying that but he sees beyond that to the sadness in her eyes. Yet, despite that, she's accomplished so much. Even caught the attention of multiple government agencies. This is definitely a woman that he would want his daughter to be around. This is an agent that he would feel comfortable sending her with.

He stands from the sofa and rounds his desk, punching the button that calls Ellen's phone.

"Call Director Rancic's office and tell them the decision is fine. And…order me a couple of lightsabers."

Ellen sighs and he can almost see her pinching the bridge of her nose through the door. "Any particular color?"

"Surprise me."

* * *

Kate and Jim spend their first few days sight-seeing and settling her into her condo. She likes the quaint neighborhood in Annapolis, likes seeing trees out her window instead of steel and concrete. She feels bad for thinking like that, for thinking ill of her beloved New York City but she came here to make a change and the view out the window certainly is.

It's nice for them to just spend some time together but reality comes crashing down the day that she drives him to the rehab facility. He requests to be left at the door and she grudgingly complies, watching with trepidation as he disappears inside. She wanted to look around, see his room, meet some of the staff but she knows that he's more than capable than handling all of that.

And she's pretty sure that he doesn't want her worried eyes tracking his every move.

She leaves with a sigh and heads back to civilization, back to her cozy condo and her new career waiting for her.

* * *

"Really, sir?" It's not like her to question orders from her superiors but Kate Beckett isn't sure she heard the man correctly.

Director Rancic just nods at her. "Really, Beckett. I'm assigning you Alexis Castle's detail. You'll be the most junior agent on her detail but you'll be one of the people responsible for the President's daughter."

"Thank you, sir," she manages to choke out. "It's an honor."

But it doesn't feel like so much of an honor three days later when she's drowning in report files, memorizing code names and analyzing building schematics. All in the name of protection, she supposes.

She's about to open another file when her stomach grumbles. Loudly. She takes the hint and stands from her desk, stretching her arms over her head to release the tension in her back from being hunched over for hours on end. She wanders into the break room, collects her lunch from the fridge and pops the leftovers in the microwave.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she smiles when she see the number that she's come to associate with her father's rehab facility flash across the screen. "Hey, great timing, I just took a break for lunch."

"At 3:30 in the afternoon?" Jim replies, amused.

Kate winces. "I must have lost track of time."

"Hey, you're saving the world, it's allowed."

"I'm not quite doing that, but sure, we'll use that excuse." She can't help the grin that steals across her face. It's so nice to hear her dad sound this light and…happy. He sounds happy for the first time in a very, very long time. "How's it going out there?"

"This place reminds of the cabin in New York. I've gone for walks around the lake and the air is so fresh. It's just what I needed."

"I'm glad, Dad." Her heart is so full for him, so proud of what he's doing. But the Beckett's don't use words like that so she leaves the pride in her voice for him to hear.

"You still coming up this weekend?"

"Yep," she replies, nodding even though he can't see her. "I want to especially since I'm in training camp for two weeks and then starting my detail."

"And I still can't know what that is?"

She chuckles at his teasing. "You know you can't."

"It's the big man himself, isn't it? You're guarding the President, I know it."

"Even if I was, I couldn't tell you."

"Fine. I'll just sit over here in fantasy land believing what I want to believe." They laugh softly together for a minute. The microwave beeps and he must hear it through the line. "I'll leave you to your food, Katie. See you this weekend."

"Bye Dad. See you soon."

* * *

It's the first day of officially being part of Alexis Castle's detail and she's nervous. Nervous to meet a little kid. Well, no, she's nervous to protect the kid. But what if the girl doesn't like her? What if she's a hellion brat and this is actually a punishment assignment? There's not much about Alexis Castle reported in the news. Which is intentional, she's learned. If the President finds out that you let something about his daughter end up in the media, you aren't shown the door, you are catapulted out of it.

So yeah, she's nervous.

"Spice is making her exit," a voice murmurs in her earpiece. She stands up straighter.

The door is pushed open and Alexis Castle breezes through, offering a smile and genuine "Thank you" to the agent that holds it open for her. Her flame hair drapes over her shoulders, over the strap of the bulging messenger bag that the girl carries with ease.

"You're new," she states plainly when she's standing in front of Kate.

"Yeah." _Really, Kate? You're that unnerved by an 8 year old that all you can manage is "yeah?"_

"What's your name?" It's a request, the girl's sweet voice laced with curiosity.

"Agent Beckett."

She wrinkles her nose. "That's a weird name." Kate bristles with indignation. "He's Agent George and he's Agent Nick but I guess Beckett is a cool name."

Oh. _Oh._ George is Harris's first name and Nick is Larson's.

"Well, in that case, I'm Agent Kate."

"Oh, I like that! Nice to meet you Agent Kate. Are you coming with us to school today?"

"I am," she confirms as she opens the door of the SUV for Alexis, marveling at the way she manages to get her slim frame and the heavy book bag in at the same time. She shuts the door behind her before turning to the other agents. "A warning would have been nice."

"Where's the fun in that, Beckett?" Larson answers, sauntering around the vehicle to get in.

She sits in the back with Alexis, the girl chattering at her the whole way. Asking her where she's from, what her favorite books are, what TV shows she likes. Kate's never really been a kid person, she likes them well enough but she's never really spent a significant amount of time around them. Yet she finds herself really liking Alexis Castle, the kid has a natural way of talking to people and seems genuinely interested in what they have to say despite what people say about the attention span of children her age.

The drive into school passes quickly and they're wishing her a good day before Beckett realizes it and they watch her make her way down the hall with the her friends until she disappears into her classroom. Beckett trails after Harris and Larson to a small lounge where it appears the private security and protection for the students spend their day.

"School's a cake walk," Harris tells her. "You're along for the cake walk so that you can see how it goes. Three agents are too many on a normal day but if you're on Spice's detail, you gotta know the ropes."

"Hey, she should walk her home tonight," Larson interjects.

"Yeah," Harris agrees, a smile that Beckett doesn't like taking over his features. "It's Thursday, she goes to spend time with her dad after school on Thursday."

Her dad. Her dad the President. Beckett hides a gulp as best she can, hopes desperately that her voice is even when she speaks. "Sounds great."

Today she meets President Castle.

* * *

 _Based on the following prompt from castlefanficprompts tumblr: Kate Beckett recently got promoted to be the First Daughter's secret service detail. She has never met single dad and President of America, Richard Castle before. And when she does, sparks fly. Plus, Alexis (7 or 8 years old) simply adores her and considers her as a pseudo-mom. Will this sort of forbidden romance bloom? or will the people of America say otherwise? ^_^ ~A.L.~_

 _twitter: Berkielynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_

 _A/N: This story is fully written and it is my plan to put chapters up as they're edited and to have it completely posted by the time season 8 starts airing._

 _Thank you to my amazing betas Lou and Bean and also to Jennifer and Jill for reading this over._

 _ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM: Yes, there is another fic based off this prompt. Yes, the author of that fic knows that I'm writing this and is entirely supportive._


	2. Chapter 2

_You can do this, Kate. You can walk through the West Wing like a normal person._ It's not like she hasn't been in the halls before, it's not like she doesn't know the blueprint of every turn and door (seen and unseen). But as she walks behind Alexis en route for the Oval Office, it feels…different. Important.

Not that Alexis realizes how important she is, saying hello and giving out high fives and hugs to just about everyone they pass. She's well-loved here and it's easy to see why. One smile and flash of her ocean blue eyes is enough to have anyone under her spell.

Kate's pretty sure she already is.

"Hi, Ellen!" the girl exclaims as they round a corner.

"Alexis! How are you today, sweetheart?" The older woman's face breaks open on a grin, genuine affection radiating off her as the girl rounds the desk to accept a hug.

"I'm great. This is Agent Kate, she's new."

Ellen stands and offers a hand that Kate takes in a firm but polite hand shake. "She giving you the lay of the land?"

"She said that comes later. Today was all about getting here to see her Dad."

"Well, you girls just go right on in, he's expecting you."

Expecting her. The President is expecting her.

They approach the closed door, Kate taking point as is protocol, rapping on the door a few times to announce their arrival. There's no movement or sound from the other side. Which is odd. That's odd, right? The marine standing guard gives her nothing, no twitch or cast of his eyes to her to indicate if this is out of the ordinary. She glances down at Alexis who just shrugs.

"Maybe he's in the bathroom."

"Alexis," Kate admonishes but she could be right.

She takes a deep breath and slowly pushes the door open. "Sir? Alexis is here to see you." She spots a small table behind the sofa with a note propped on it, the girl's name boldly scrawled on the envelope. The note is being held up by…a lightsaber?

She pushes the door wide, pointing at the table. "I think that's for you."

Alexis squeals, bounding into the room to snatch the note up, greedy fingers withdrawing the card from the envelope. "May the force be with you," she reads out loud.

At that moment the sound of a lightsaber igniting comes from behind the desk and the President rises up, a shining purple lightsaber in his grasp. "Alexis, I am your father."

The girl giggles and picks up the lightsaber on the table, igniting its blue blade before falling to her knees dramatically and shouting "Noooooooooooooo!"

Kate stands aghast. To say that this is not how she expected this to go is a vast understatement.

"Oh!" The President exclaims, the single syllable so filled with surprise that it breaks her from her shock. She looks up to find hirvivm staring at her with wide eyes. Wide, beautiful blue eyes. Set in a rugged face. Above his broad shoulders and chest and a waist that her arms could encircle with ease. _Wait, what? No, Kate._ "You're her. You're Beckett."

"That's Agent Kate, Dad."

"Only to you, Pumpkin."

He comes around the desk, lightsaber still humming in his hand and he offers his unoccupied one in greeting. She responds automatically, allowing his large hand to dwarf hers, his thick fingers curling warm against the back of her palm. Flashes of what those fingers may feel like other places flash across her mind unbidden. _Geez Kate, get ahold of yourself. Inappropriate much?_

She's realizes he's talking, babbling really, mostly apologies for "how all this must look" and when was it that she zoned off anyway? She looks up to stop his stream of babbling but the words die on her lips when she catches his eyes again.

Oh, right. His eyes she could happily drown in. And his palm is still burning into hers. She really can't be blamed for not being able to think coherently.

She pulls her hand back regretfully, runs both her palms down the front of her slacks, takes a breath to allow the phantom tingling in her right to dissipate. "It's fine. Looks like you guys are all set up for some fun." She glances over at Alexis, her whole face lighting up as she returns the girl's gleeful grin. She turns back the President to find him staring at her, awestruck. The smile dissolves from her face and as it does, he seems to find his composure again.

"Yeah, they just showed up today, thought we'd break them in. Hey, you're not a Jedi, are you?"

She barks out a laugh before smothering her reaction. "No. Sorry."

"Dammit, I've really been hoping to get one on staff. Ah well, the search continues." He smiles, an amused smile that crinkles his eyes and makes him look like a pleased little boy. It's completely adorable on him.

It's then that she realizes that Alexis has been curiously silent. She looks down to find the girl critically regarding them, her eyes bouncing back and forth between them as if she's trying to figure something out. She's smart, Kate caught on to that quickly today, and she's watched her dad interact with plenty of people before so Kate has to wonder if this is normal, if he flirts with all the women he meets. Because she can admit that's what they're doing right now. And what if this is just how he is?

Then again, he's not the one that was caught cheating.

She clears her throat, breaks everyone out of whatever reverie they were caught in. "I should get going."

He extends his hand again and her stomach flutters at the thought of touching him once more but she manages to work her arm to slide her fingers against his, the handshake more of a caress then a professional courtesy, the electric touch of his skin against hers causing a shaky breath that she's helpless to cover up as it escape her lungs.

"It was nice to meet you." His voice is low and infused with warmth.

"You too," she replies, matching his tone, the softness throwing a blanket of intimacy over the whole interaction.

He's the one that pulls back this time, a wisp of a smile curving the corners of his lips up. She takes a breath and turns to Alexis. "It was good to meet you today too, Alexis."

"Will I see you tomorrow, Agent Kate?"

"No, I don't think so." The girl frowns at her. "I'm not one of the main agents on your detail; I was just along today to learn some things."

"Oh." The syllable is laden with disappointment.

"But you have a party this weekend, right? I'll be along for that."

"Oh!" Kate smiles at how easy it is to turn this kid's mood around.

"You have fun with your dad. I'll see you in a few days." She shields her mouth with the back of one hand and stage whispers, "Try not to beat him too bad; guys have sensitive egos, you know."

"Hey!" Rick protests, the amusement in his tone removing all hope of sounding harsh. "I can hold my own."

Kate raises a disbelieving eyebrow at Alexis, eliciting a giggle.

"It's okay, Dad, we're both good guys so we won't fight against each other anyway. You can be my Padawan!"

"I'll leave you to your lessons, Padawan," she tells him with a grin as she takes her leave, wriggling her fingers to Alexis in a good bye.

She closes the office's door ( _The Oval Office's door_ ) and slumps back against it, her eyes slipping closed as she heaves a sigh. Her eyes slit back open at the sound of a chuckle to find Ellen laughing softly at her.

"Is he always like that?" Kate asks, pushing off the door to stand by the assistant's desk.

"And how would that be?" Ellen is all curiosity, obvious in the fact that she's interested in the other woman's perspective of her boss.

 _That flirty? That seemingly interested in women he meets?_ The thoughts fly through her head but she voices none of them. "Like a nine year old on a sugar rush?"

Ellen nods. "More so when Alexis is around even though I think it's more like she's raising him than vice-versa. He's been on a Star Wars kick lately but I'm sure when the next Harry Potter movie comes out, he'll insist that everyone on staff needs a wand. Again."

Kate laughs at that, so able to easily picture him walking the halls of the West Wing in a Hogwart's robe and an armful of wands. "Good to know. Have a nice day, Ellen."

"Welcome to the White House, Agent Beckett."

* * *

That evening, as she's exiting the elevator for her condo's floor, her phone rings in her pocket. She juggles the contents of her arms to extract the device from her jacket, her brow wrinkling in confusion to see Director Rancic's number flashing across the screen. She'd spoken with her boss before she left not quite half an hour ago, what could he want that couldn't wait until tomorrow?

"Beckett."

"I just got an interesting phone call." Her brow contorts further. "It seems you have a fan."

"Sir?" The question practically squeaks out of her throat because what could he possibly be talking about?

"Alexis Castle has requested that you be a part of her daily detail. She'll be expecting you tomorrow. Agent Harris is still primary."

"Of course, sir, thank you, sir, I'll be there." She tries, she really does but she knows that she was unable to keep how pleased this makes her out of her tone. She really liked the girl, has honestly meant it when she's said it was an honor to be chosen to be even a part of her detail and now the kid wants her there every day? She will be there. Without fail.

* * *

The smile that Alexis gives her every morning is without a doubt the best part of her job. The girl is bubbly and genuinely happy all the time. She's bright and easy to talk to; Kate finds herself having rather deep conversations with the 8 year old and is surprised at her ability to grasp the complicated concepts that most adults struggle with.

Most days, Kate walks her inside after school. It started because they were finishing a conversation about their favorite novels but it became habit after a few weeks. They both know she doesn't have to, knows that it's a secure entrance into the residence and she doesn't need an escort in the sanctity of her own home but that doesn't seem to matter. Each day, Beckett comes with her in the elevator or walks her up the private stairs before turning to leave herself, nodding at various staff members as she goes.

And, of course, she continues to be Alexis's escort to her Thursday playtimes with her dad.

Kate's never sure what to expect when they enter the Oval Office on Thursdays. One day, they find the President sitting on a quilt on the floor, an elaborate tea set laid out before him. He makes a striking picture in a tiara and glittery wings and luckily, Alexis's squeal of delight drowns out her giggle as she closes the door. Ellen just shrugs at her but the picture stays in her mind all night, drawing out a grin when she remembers again.

One day, Ellen meets Alexis outside the door with a laser tag vest.

"Yes! I am going to crush him!"

Kate is completely taken aback by the girl's intensity and can only watch, dumbstruck, as she sneaks in low through the door, the darkened room and rolling fog the only glimpse that Beckett gets before it snicks shut.

She turns to Ellen. "I get used to this, right?" This is not the first time she's asked.

"You do." She's still not reassured.

There's quiet days too, ones where he's only barely finished business for the day, is still signing everywhere an aide points when they enter the room; days where he's finishing up phone calls Beckett's positive she doesn't have the clearance to hear.

"What's your take on minimum wage?" he asks her one day as Alexis is putting her things down.

She pauses for the briefest of moments, thrown that he would ask her something like this so casually. "I think that the economy has inflated faster than the wage has been raised and that the current minimum is too low to survive on in the current market."

He looks pleased at her answer, a warm smile lining his eyes. "Nice," he says appreciatively. "I think most of my staff is afraid to tell me that. Thanks for speaking honestly."

She shrugs, a move to brush off his gratitude. "What you do here directly affects peoples' lives, why would anyone not be honest about it?"

His smile shifts, it doesn't become bigger, it just becomes _more_. The warmth in his eyes is now radiating light, a healthy dose of something that looks too much like affection in his gaze. It makes her uncomfortable to be the subject of something so intimate.

But more than that, it makes her happy that she can invoke that kind of emotion in someone. That someone would want to share that emotion with her. She allows her usually tightly held guard to drop and lets a mirroring smile slide over her features, hopes that she's conveying some of what she's feeling right back. He relaxes back in his seat, almost melts against it and she has to believe that she's being successful in sharing it with him.

"What are we doing today, daddy?"

They both startle at Alexis's voice, the girl's excitement making her oblivious to the moment she's interrupted.

Kate makes her way to the door as they decide on the day's activity and when she glances back before she leaves, he's watching her go, that same awed affection on his face.

* * *

Without her even realizing, Thursdays become her favorite day of the week.

It hits her one morning as she's getting ready for work. She's singing along to a bouncy pop tune on the radio as she does her makeup; the fact that the radio's even on an oddity in and of itself. She's usually fine with silence, happier in it even but today, today she needed something to drown out the buzzing in her head.

The buzzing that she suddenly recognizes as excitement. It took her a while to realize it because it's been a long time since she's been genuinely excited about, well, anything. Going to Stanford might have been the last time that she approached something with this level of giddiness.

And this time, it's all about _him._ And just like all people, he's impermanent, completely easy to lose. Because that's what happens with people in her life. She loses them. She lost her mother to murder, her father to the bottle and despite any current recovery on his part, she's sure that she'll never really have her father back. Not like she had him before.

Not that she has _him._ The Presid-

Rick. He's asked her to call him Rick. And she hasn't, not out loud anyway. Can't because if she never realized that she was developing a crush – _holy shit, I have a crush on him –_ she knew that was a line that shouldn't be crossed. But she's been doing it subconsciously, calling him Rick when she thinks about spending time with him without Alexis around. When she thinks about having coffee together or watching a movie or-

 _No. Enough._

It needs to stop. Besides the fact that it is so very much beyond any protocol ever written, she can't do this to herself. She can't hope like this; that kind of happiness isn't something within her grasp. It poured from her like the blood from her mother's wounds in that alley when she learned of her death.

God, how would he even react if he learned about that? About her father's alcoholism? Just thinking about how horrified he would be fortifies the wall around her heart.

She has to admit that the kind of relationship she tends to have isn't feasible with him. You can't casually date the President. You have to be in or out, there's no room for leaving one foot out the door. So, she could be polite, she would be cordial but he's the leader of the free world and she guards the man's daughter, there's no room for anything else. She nods to herself, resolved that it's the best way to proceed.

But the thought of it saddens her so much more than she expected it to.

* * *

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	3. Chapter 3

She's just about to put mascara on her other eye one morning as the phone rings. No one calls this early, not even her boss has ever called her this early. She doesn't recognize the number and is about to let it go to voicemail when a nagging voice in her head tells her to answer it.

"Beckett," she answers in usual clipped tone, sandwiching the phone between her ear and shoulder to finish her makeup.

"Ms. Beckett, this is Dr. Maxwell from Lasting Change, I'm sorry to call you so early."

She practically drops the phone when the medical director from her father's rehab facility introduces himself. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry to say it's not. While your father should be alright, he was involved in altercation this morning that has required him to go to the emergency room for some stitches."

"What kind of altercation?" She practically yells it, the sound echoing off the tiles in her bathroom.

"We're still gathering details but it appears that another patient took a dislike to Mr. Beckett and showed it in the form of a breakfast tray to the face. Mr. Beckett has a laceration above his left eye that we are currently transporting him to the hospital for. "

"So this just happened?"

"Yes, ma'am, we wanted to inform you as soon as possible."

"What hospital is he going to?"

Dr. Maxwell provides the information as she scribbles it on the note pad she keeps in her nightstand. She ends the call as she slips on her shoes and heads towards the door, gathering her things as she goes. She calls Rancic as she peels out of her parking space, finds the director to be extremely understanding of the situation, tells her to just keep him updated as to when she'll be able to return. She should feel content with how things are handled in D.C., should feel free to take care of her father for the day. But there's another call she wishes she could make, another person she wishes she could easily inform that she won't see today.

It weighs on her, the fact that it's Thursday.

* * *

It takes eight very careful stitches from a bubbly intern that tells them all about her hopes of getting into a plastic surgery rotation to close the gash on his forehead. The woman grates on Kate's already frayed nerves and she knows that Jim won't care so much about a well-hidden scar but she's grateful that it won't garner him a lot of attention once healed. Nothing like having to tell people that you got in a fight in rehab to stop a conversation cold.

They allow her to drive him back to the facility and she's pretty sure that her badge and job title have a lot to do with that but the staff that escorted him to the hospital seem to genuinely like and trust her father as well.

"Besides, it's not like _you're_ a flight risk," the nurse says to Jim and they share a chuckle, a joke that Kate seems to be on the outside of.

They're silent as the car snakes along the tree lined roads, the sun dappling its way through the lush spring leaves. The last time she was here, the trees were bare sticks reaching for the sky in hopes of some sunlight.

"I'm sorry," she sighs into the quiet.

"Katie, you didn't do anything to cause this-"

"No," she cuts him off, "I mean that I haven't been up to visit. I haven't been once since I started my job."

"Hey," her dad starts, covering her knee with his hand. "Your job is important, I know that."

"But you're important too!" It comes out as a cry, desperate and emphatic, her seeming failure as a daughter coloring her words.

"I know that, you wouldn't have come today if I wasn't." He stops, lets his words sink and she deflates. "You had to call into work because of me, didn't you?"

"I'm not in trouble."

"Would you have still come even if you had been?"

"Yes." There's no hesitation in her answer, she doesn't need to think about it.

"Then that's all that matters."

* * *

Dr. Maxwell greets them at the door and ushers them into his comfortable office, offering profuse apologies along the way.

"We've not yet quite determined what got into Mr. Glenn-"

"Oh, I could have told you that," Jim interrupts and Dr. Maxwell motions for him to continue. "Last week he told me that I was too calm, that it unnerves him."

The doctor sits still for a moment, absorbing this information. "We knew that Mr. Glenn had some anger issues but I was unaware that he had threatened another patient."

"He didn't threaten me, just told me that he didn't like my attitude. I told him likewise and was on my way. I didn't say anything to anyone because I didn't feel threatened at the time."

"Still, Mr. Beckett, I feel responsible for this and must apologize profusely."

"And why do you feel the need to do that?"

Kate has to a smother a grin beneath her hand. She knows this voice, this is Jim Beckett, Esq. coming out to trap someone into saying nothing but the truth, this is the voice that he used when she was a teenager to find out where she was at night, who she was dating.

The man sputters for a moment before answering. "I feel responsible for all of my patients' wellbeing and to find out that one of them has been going around threatening the other patients, even subtly, and I didn't know? That's something that weighs on me."

Jim nods. "I can respect that. You worry about the people you're responsible for. Even when you know they're capable of taking care of themselves." He shoots his eyes over to Kate for a moment and she sees that worry in his eyes.

"Exactly. I'm very glad you're alright."

"Thank you."

They all stand and exchange handshakes, Jim turning down an offer to be escorted to his room. "Got my own personal security," he jokes, motioning to Kate.

"Do you want me to stay a while?" she asks as they make their way through the halls.

"I really just want to take a nap, my head is throbbing." His voice is strained and for the first time that morning, Kate sees how much of a toll this has taken on her father. He's not hiding now how much he hurts, his face pulled gaunt in pain. She takes his wrist and settles his hand in the crook of her arm, allows him to lean on her for support.

He gathers her in a hug outside the door to his room. "I'll come up more often, I swear," she promises as she pulls back.

Her father shakes his head at her, smooths a hand down her hair. "Kate." The use of her chosen name and not her childhood nickname catches her attention. "You come when you can. You're keeping the leader of the free world safe."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm not guarding the president, Dad."

"So, you say," he answers with a wink, hissing as the move makes his stitches pull.

"I'll let you rest," she murmurs, opening the door for him.

"Love you, Katie."

"Love you too, Dad."

* * *

The drive back through the woods of Maryland is peaceful and serene; she can easily see why the facility chose to build up here. It's still early in the day, barely noon and the drive is only an hour and a half so she takes her time, drives just under the speed limit and looks around at nature. When the signs on the highway indicate a state park, she pulls off and follows the arrows to a lake area. She breathes the clean air deep as she gets out of the car and happily makes her way down to the body of water. It makes her miss the cabin in upstate New York and the tranquility of the lake there.

Sitting in the grass beside the gently lapping water, she realizes how little time she's taken for herself lately. Her life has been her job, Alexis's safety the number one thing on her mind at all times. Today it hasn't been, her father's injury wiping her mind of all other thoughts. She doesn't regret it though; it was definitely the right call to be here for him but how often does she stop to do things for herself nowadays?

What better time than now? She digs her gym bag out of the trunk, quickly changes in the bathroom, fills a water bottle at a fountain and finds one of the marked trails to explore. She spends hours in the woods both on and off the trail, following whatever catches her eyes or ears. When she emerges back to the lake side, the grin on her face is making her cheeks hurt, the joy she's feeling bursting out of her very pores. She drinks deep from the water fountain, the bottle she took with her having long run dry, and does some cooling stretches before she settles in the car.

Once back on the highway, her phone dings with multiple missed alerts that weren't picked up in remoteness of the park. There's a voicemail from Dr. Maxwell, the smile on her face becoming impossibly wider as she listens to him tell her that Mr. Glenn has been moved to a different facility. The weight of worry she was carrying for her father dissipates as she learns that he's not in danger any longer. She has to chuckle at the end of the message as the doctor suggests that Jim look into becoming a counselor when he's completed treatment as "he has a disarming way of bringing the truth out of folks." She'll bring it up to him.

With that out of the way, her thoughts wander back to the 8 year old with the bright orange hair. She missed Alexis today. Which is silly because she's just a kid and Kate's never really been all that great with them. But this one is different, special. When she found out that Alexis wanted Kate on her detail, she made a promise to herself that she would be there every day. And while the girl isn't privy to that decision and doesn't have a reason to feel that a trust has been broken, there's a strong sense of guilt welling up in Kate's chest. And a driving need to apologize.

* * *

She swings by her condo for a quick shower and a change of clothes, opting for comfort with the jeans, overlarge sweater and well-loved Chucks she chooses to wear. It's not the most professional but she's going to talk to a kid and thinks that if she shows up in a power suit and her now trademark heels, some of the sincerity will be lost. She does a quick line of eyeliner and a sweep of mascara for her own fortification and snags a hair tie off the bathroom counter, piling her rapidly drying hair on her head as she makes her way down the hall.

She gathers her phone and a small purse with essentials but pauses when she slides into the car. Should she call ahead? Make sure she can be seen? It's not like she's just walking up to someone's house off the street. This is the _White House_. Although, Alexis did tell her once, "Daddy and I like surprises." With the girl's sparkling blue eyes in her mind, she determinedly heads for her destination.

* * *

All her worry is for naught as she passes all the security checkpoints with ease save for the ribbing she gets for being so dressed down. A member of the house staff greets her and ushers her into the Center Hall. She's been here dozens of times but always with Alexis as an excuse and now she feels odd just standing here. The woman that greeted her – Doris, if Kate recalls correctly - is looking at her expectantly but patiently and it occurs to her that she's waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"And why can I tell him that you're here?"

"Oh! No, I'm hoping to see Alexis. I had to call out today and it's Thursday and I didn't get to walk her home and…" She trails off, a blush of heat crawling up her neck, pinking the tips of her ears. Why on earth is she so nervous? She should have worn heels, at least the shoes would have bolstered her courage.

Doris smiles encouragingly. "I'll see if she's available, can you wait here?"

"Of course."

The woman disappears in the elevator; leaving Kate extended time to look around. She's never had a chance to wander through the rooms, never been able to touch the lush fabrics and sit in the original furniture that still dots the house. This place is massive and stately and impressive and standing in something so historic makes her feel completely insignificant. What has she done in her life that's worthy of where she's standing?

Before she can contemplate that further, the ding of the elevator catches her attention, Doris reappearing a moment later. "He said you can go right on up, dear, all the way to the second floor, do you mind taking the Grand Staircase up?"

"No, that's fine." And odd. The private stairs are more often used to enter the Residence but Kate is a guest tonight and doesn't question the request. "Thank you."

"Of course, dear."

She makes her way up on soft feet, allowing her hand to brush the smooth brass railing as she goes. As she rounds the stairs at the State Floor, the Entrance Hall is almost creepy in the low light; the shadows of the columns cutting across the marble floor like fangs and she hurries up the final flight above her.

Rick's waiting for her at the landing, standing relaxed with his hands in his pockets, his button down undone a few buttons, tie probably long gone, hair a little disheveled from either running his hands through it in frustration or running around with Alexis. It's a tossup with him. He looks…delicious.

Kate swallows hard as she lifts her legs up the last few steps. It's just a crush. It doesn't mean anything. She can think the man's attractive, there's no harm in that.

She lifts her eyes to his as she hits the last step only to find his cast down, slowly making their way up her body. He's smiling, something soft and amused as he takes in her attire. She pseudo-glares at him when his eyes meet hers, a silent chastisement and he looks contrite but only for the briefest of moments.

"To what do we owe this pleasure, Agent?" His eyes widen in surprise at the low timbre of his voice, clearly even he wasn't expecting to sound so seductive. He clears his voice, tries again. "Not that you're not welcome, just that I –we! We didn't expect to see you today."

She manages to compose herself while he rambles, swallowing again and wetting her lips (she doesn't miss his eyes darting down to her mouth when she does so). "I just," she shrugs, suddenly feeling self-conscious about this whole thing. "Wanted to apologize," she finishes on a rush of air, dropping her eyes to where her fingers are toying with the cuffs of her sweater.

"Why don't you come in?" His voice is soft, imploring and welcoming, that edge of sex gone from his tone and it makes her relax and lift her head.

A smile quirks on her lips in response to the encouraging one he's giving her. "Sure."

She trails after him down the hall, to the West Sitting Hall, finding the room to be cozy and inviting and so very him.

"We redecorated after Meredith left," he offers as he watches her look around. "Alexis and I spent a whole Saturday sitting on couches to find the perfect one. I won rock, paper, scissors to get the grey one. She wanted it in purple."

Kate releases a breathless laugh at that, unsure of how to really respond. She's surprised that he'd bring up his ex-wife so casually, the same way strangers talk about the weather. Though it's not like the whole country doesn't know how much of a shameless adulterer she is, it's not like the news of her many, many extra-marital lovers wasn't splashed all over the news cycle for more than a month.

"She has the matching armchair in purple in her sitting room," he adds and she does laugh then, a bright chuckle escaping her lips. He grins. "Have a seat," he motions to the sofa in question. "Did you want something to eat? The kitchen's just through there, I can grab us a snack."

She settles herself on one end of the huge sectional. "No, thank you, I wasn't going to stay long. Um, where's Alexis?"

He blushes, ducking his head sheepishly and dropping to the other end of the sofa. "She's in her room. She gave herself a strict bedtime of eight and she doesn't deviate from it. She usually reads until about nine but I didn't want to disturb her. She doesn't know you're here."

"Oh. I had told Doris-"

"I know," he cuts in. "I told her to let you up anyway. I had just tucked Alexis in which is why I asked you to meet me at that end of the hall."

"Oh, well, um…" She trails off, unsure of how to continue but she came to apologize to a Castle and she supposes this one will do. "I came to apologize for today."

His brow furrows in confusion. "Apologize for what?"

"For having to call out. When Alexis requested me as part of her detail, I told myself that I would be there every day and I wasn't today and I'm sorry." She feels the blush of pink on her neck and ears as she speaks, suddenly so embarrassed at admitting this to him.

"Beck- Kate." She doesn't expect the shiver down her spine at the sound of her first name from his lips, couldn't have anticipated the electric tingle it would send down to her fingertips. "As I understand it, you had a family emergency today."

She nods. "My dad," is all she offers.

"How could I be mad at you for that? I know that Alexis isn't. She was worried about you actually, asked me if I knew you were okay."

She melts at that, her lips spreading wide at the knowledge that the girl was just as worried about her. "Well, then I'm sorry I made her worry."

"You are okay, right?" He sounds like he's trying to mask how concerned he is. He's not terribly successful, the words bleeding with the worry he just blamed on his daughter.

"I'm completely fine. And my dad-" she pauses, thinks that doesn't really want to get into this but she already decided that once he knew about her mess of a personal life he wouldn't want her. Maybe the look of disgust that she'll get will help her get over this crush. "My dad's fine too. He's at a rehab facility in Maryland to try to get over his alcohol addiction. This is his second run at getting sober but he's really committed and he's been doing really well. Today, another patient was, well, probably jealous of the strides he made and he hit him pretty bad. Eight stitches." She's not looking at him, not directly. It's easier to tell the story to the wall beyond his head. But she sees him wince when she mentions the stitches and it brings her eyes back to his.

She doesn't find what she expected to in them. He's not disgusted, not horrified. He's looking at with compassion and she finds that it's worse. She had steeled herself for him to want to get away from her as fast as possible but he's doing just the opposite, he's repositioning himself in the corner of the sectional. There's still a cushion between them but there's not the barrier of the coffee table any longer. Every emotion that he's conveying to her is impossible to avoid when he's this close.

She takes a deep breath. "He's fine," she iterates, a steely hint of warning to her tone and he heeds it, doesn't shift any closer.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs. "That must have been a hard phone call to get this morning."

She has to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat, his acknowledgement of her pain making her emotions well up again. Including her emotions for him. This is not helping her crush. Not one little bit.

She needs to get out of here.

"It was. And it came pretty early so I should get going." She stands but doesn't miss the disappointed drop of his shoulders.

"Sure." His voice is tight but understanding as he rises. "You know, you-" he stops abruptly, taking a deep breath before he continues. "It was nice of you to come by. I'll make sure Alexis knows that you were here."

She smiles genuinely at that. "Thank you. And I will see her tomorrow."

"I'll make sure she knows." He sweeps his arm toward the doorway and she makes her way back towards the Grand Staircase without thinking about it, him trailing behind her in a mirror of earlier. They trudge down the hallway in silence and she turns to him when she reaches the stair landing.

"Have a good night," she says softly, not wanting to drag this goodbye out.

He opens his mouth to say something but closes it on a sigh as he takes a step closer to her. She almost takes a step back but remembers the stairs are at her back and remains rooted in place, suddenly terrified of what he's going to do. But he just stands there, a foot of space between them, the silence thick and suffocating. His hands flex at his sides, impatience in the work of his fingers.

"Good night, Kate." He whispers it, his voice weaving around her, conjuring images of that being the last thing she hears as she falls asleep in his arms.

She takes it for the leave-taking it is and turns to flee down the stairs.

* * *

He stands at the landing for a while after she leaves. Well, escaped is more like it, running like she couldn't get away from him fast enough.

He's in trouble. He thought she was attractive when he saw her picture, found her resume to be impressive but paper doesn't do the woman justice. She's warm and fierce and kind and protective all the same time. His kid adores her, tells him about all the conversations they have. He knows that Kate is the reason that she's reading books like Island of the Blue Dolphins and The Babysitter's Club series.

And he's calling her Kate. Especially when it comes to the glowing way that Alexis talks about her. He knows that she has the credentials to protect his daughter but he never could have imagined that she would also want to be her friend.

He almost asked her stay. Almost told her that she didn't have to leave, that there are many bedrooms she could stay in instead of going home. And he would be lying to himself if he didn't count his bedroom among those choices.

And that's exactly why he's in trouble. Because he's supposed to still be mourning the end of his marriage. At least, that's what the American people are supposed to think. Never mind that he had known about Meredith's infidelity for years, had begged her to be the woman that he met at one of his step-father's fundraising dinners all those years ago. She was so optimistic and bright and he was so enamored with her. It wasn't long after they were married that he felt her slipping away but he blamed it on himself, on his burgeoning senate campaign and all the time it sucked away from them. He thought the addition of Alexis would bring them together but motherhood never fit well on Meredith. So he did what he could to be both mother and father to his daughter, worked hard to fit that time in between his senate meetings. All while his wife slept her way through Washington.

It hurt to keep her on board for the presidential campaign but he grit his teeth and held her hand and smiled for the cameras. It was a relief the day that it all hit the media, the heavy air that hung around their home dissipating as she left in a huff. He was lighter, he was free.

But in the year and a half since, he had rarely thought about finding someone new. He had a country to run, a daughter to raise. He met plenty of attractive women but never once took one up on her offer of "a night you'll never forget." They all said the same thing, simpering suggestions and giving him doe eyes. None of it was real. He wanted something different.

Kate Beckett was different. Kate Beckett was gorgeous, both in her tailored suits and in casual clothes. Kate Beckett loved his daughter because why else would she come over unannounced to apologize to her after an obviously exhausting day? Kate Beckett was exactly what he didn't know he was looking for.

But one cannot openly woo a woman when one is the President of the United States. So he'd have to get a handle on his emotions, cherish what time he did get with her and accept that she probably wouldn't want to deal with everything that would come with dating the President.

He remembers her racing down the stairs when he had stepped closer. He wanted to hug her, to pull together some of her broken pieces but completely unsure if she would let him. Her reaction very clearly told him that she does not want the same things he does.

And it's a shame, because he's pretty sure they'd be great.

* * *

 _A/N: I forgot to give a shoutout to Jennifer for betaing the last chapter. Jill gets my thanks for this one._

 _Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I work a lot of hours and don't have time to reply to all of them but I see them all and am so grateful that you've embraced this little story of mine._

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	4. Chapter 4

It is far, _far_ too early for her phone to be making that much noise. Kate fumbles the offending device from the night stand and unlocks it while she rubs sleep from her eyes. If she heard right, it chimed a text, email, and voicemail all at the same time. That cannot be good. Only the alert system from work would do that.

Her heart is thumping in her chest as she calls up her texts, the message indicating that all available agents be present for an emergency briefing at 0500. Her email says the same, the robotic monotone of the voicemail confirming the order. Her heart slows from its jack rabbiting rhythm but her brain is on overdrive trying to figure out what could have caused this. It's only just after three and there's no way she'll fall back asleep after that.

Time to make some coffee.

* * *

There's a tense air in the office, everyone milling around the briefing room, murmuring theories as to what this could be about. Beckett presses herself against a wall and avoids eye contact so as to not be sucked into one of those conversations. She doesn't need someone else's worst case scenario, she's thought up plenty of her own since she was ripped from sleep.

Director Rancic strides into the room and all conversation halts as he settles a file on a podium and flips it open.

"Meredith Castle shook her detail in New York City and came in on a red eye flight unannounced last night. She arrived at the White House without incident but was denied entrance to the Residence. She was assigned a detail of two agents, Miller and Torres, and escorted to Blair House. She has been made aware that she must vacate Blair House by Wednesday evening as there is a group of Swedish dignitaries confirmed there for the weekend. She stated that she understood." There's a few scoffs around the room but Rancic continues. "Miller and Torres will stay on her while she is here, Wall will be on call as tertiary. Larson is active as tertiary on Spice for the duration, Rook's detail will remain as is, those that are on call know who they are."

He closes the folder and raises his eyes to the room. "We know how unpredictable this woman is, people. Spice's detail will need to make sure not to let the woman and the girl out of your sight for any reason. She is reckless and we will not let that put our people or our charges in danger, understood?" There's a rumble of "Yes, sir" from the agents.

"Be on alert, people. Harpy's in town."

* * *

Meredith walks Alexis out to the car that morning and Kate takes an immediate dislike to her. It has nothing to do with the woman herself, she's beautiful and bubbly; it doesn't even have anything to do with the condescending way she talks down to Beckett. She's used to that, used to people dismissing her in her field because she's not a man. Meredith's seemingly-offhanded, "I can't say I'd wear heels to protect my daughter" doesn't hit the way she was intending, Kate shrugging the comment off as she takes Alexis's book bag to deposit in the vehicle.

No, her dislike has everything to do with Alexis's body language. The normally sweet and cheerful girl is shockingly silent, her head bowed, shoulders scrunched towards her ears. Anyone that can make this beautiful child so withdrawn is not one she can trust.

Kate has to mask her disgust as the woman makes a show out of saying good bye, hugging Alexis effusively even as her daughter stands with her arms limp at her sides. Alexis's muttered "Bye mom" is almost lost in the cacophony of "Be good!"'s and "Have a good day!"'s that are shouted at her as she gets in the car. Before Kate can close the door behind her, the girl grabs the handle and pulls viciously, slamming it closed.

But still her mother blathers on, oblivious.

"Thank you so much for keeping my little girl safe," she's saying as Kate tears her attention from the tinted window that Alexis is behind. Harris and Larson mutter "You're welcome, ma'am" but Kate keeps her lips sealed, doesn't even begin to trust what might come out if she tries to speak. So, she simply turns on a heel and rounds the car to slide in next to Alexis in the back seat.

The girl's buckled in, always the first to think of safety, but has the same balled up posture from before, her hands now wringing knots with her fingers. The curtain of her hair covers her face and Kate longs to tuck it behind her ear but she also knows what it's like to not want to be seen when you're feeling so raw, so she leaves her be save for the fingers that she lays lightly on her knee. Alexis's fingers halt their motion and one of her hands darts out to slide under Kate's in a surprisingly tight grip.

Their hands stay pressed together on the ride to school and by the time they arrive, the Alexis that she knows is back and Kate sighs in relief as the girl chirps out a good bye when she heads off towards her classroom.

* * *

Alexis quickly becomes sullen again on the ride home. Kate pokes her in the side, glad to see that it makes her smile, the girl sitting up a little straighter and turning to face her.

"How was school?"

She shrugs a knobby shoulder. "It was okay."

The answer in and of itself is weird, Alexis _loves_ school, loves to talk about all the new things that she learned or what she's read ahead in the next chapter to, is always happy to tell you about books they're going to read or what countries they're going to study.

"What did you read today?" Kate knows that she's prodding but she hates to see her like this, hates knowing that apprehension of seeing her mother is making her this way.

"I finished another Babysitter's Club Book. It was a Mary Ann one. She's my favorite."

"I always liked Claudia, I wanted her clothes."

Alexis giggles at her, the tinkle of laughter causing such relief that Kate is lightheaded for a moment. Thank god the girl's spirit is strong. She lapses into comfortable silence and Kate is content to let her be for the rest of the trip home.

Alexis breaks the silence as they're walking into the Residence. "What's your mom like?"

It's an innocent question from an innocent child but the weight it drops on Kate's shoulders is almost unbearable.

"Agent Kate?" The girl sounds concerned and Kate realizes that she's stopped walking in an attempt to get her breath back.

She sucks in a lungful of air before she terrifies the kid. "I'm fine, Alexis. Sorry if I scared you."

"It's okay," she answers, confusion wrinkling her forehead. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just…" She can't lie to this girl, can't give her a half truth. She's too astute, has been too kind to Kate for her to consider anything but the real story. "My mom is dead. She was murdered when I was 19."

Alexis gasps, her hands flying up to cover her open mouth as her eyes fill with tears. "Agent Kate, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, no, it's okay, it was a long time ago." Kate kneels down to Alexis's level, lays a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Do you miss her?"

Kate smiles softly at how compassionate this girl's heart is as she reaches under the collar of her shirt to pull out the chain that holds her mother's ring. "Every day," she answers as she reverently touches the stone. "But I carry this with me so she's always near my heart."

Alexis suddenly throws herself at Kate, her little arms wrapping around her as best she can, as Kate attempts to keep her balance in the crouch she's in while returning the girl's hug.

"I'm sorry I'm upset that my mom's here when you don't even have one."

And, oh, that hurts to hear but, "You're allowed to feel whatever you want, sweetie, and it's completely fine that you asked."

Alexis steps out of the hug, her head bowed. "But it upset you."

Kate gives in to that urge to tuck the girl's hair back and she raises her face as Kate's fingers comb through the silky strands. " _You_ did not upset me, okay?" She waits until Alexis nods to continue. "Okay." She stands, sweeping an arm down the hallway. "Now let's get you upstairs to do your homework."

Kate holds it in until she's descending the stairs again, stopping at a landing before she gives herself a moment to let the grief wash over her, the sickly, putrid feeling unsettlingly familiar. She takes a deep breath, counts to ten and releases the air slowly, pushes back the hungry maw of despair that would love to devour her again. She tucks the ring away and with it also hides away the heartbroken teenager, swipes under her eyes to remove any evidence, and continues on down the stairs as Agent Beckett.

* * *

The rest of the week goes by relatively without incident. Meredith leaves Blair House when instructed to and is moved to one of the bedrooms on the third floor. On Thursday morning, Alexis tells Kate all about the dinner that she and Daddy and Mom had the night before and everything seems to be going well.

Meredith walks her out to the car every morning and despite any lingering reservations Kate has about the woman, she has to admit that she seems to be making a hell of an effort. On Friday morning, she reminds Alexis that they're having a girl's night that night since "Daddy has a boring diplomatic dinner to go to." The girl grins, excitement lighting up her blue eyes and she throws her arms around her mother's neck in good bye.

Kate walks her inside after school like always and they encounter Meredith in the hall, her luggage being hauled out by some of the house staff.

"Mom, what-"

"Alexis, darling, it's so wonderful, I've been invited to a gallery opening that I've been trying to get on the guest list for for months. They called me an hour ago after someone canceled so I'm in!" She claps her hands together in glee, without acknowledgement of how her daughter is crumbling right in front of her.

"But, girl's night," she protests weakly, her eyes shining with tears.

"I'll fly you up to New York when school's out and we'll get pedis, it'll be great."

Alexis is trembling now but Kate barely notices from the way she is as well. Though Kate's pretty sure that Alexis's isn't because of rage.

Without warning, the girl takes off for the stairs, her hair flying in a riot behind her as she ascends.

"Not even so much as a good bye?" Meredith comments in a snit.

"Are you kidding me?"

It takes Kate a moment to realize that the woman turns to her because she's the one that said it. She didn't mean to say anything but it just slipped out.

"Excuse me?" Alexis's mother's tone is one of challenge and Kate should back down, should recognize that despite the fact that this woman is the President's _ex_ -wife, dressing her down could lead to dire consequences but Alexis's destroyed face flashes through her mind and she's bolstered again.

"Do you have any idea how much she was looking forward to this?"

Meredith scoffs. "I'll make it up to her next time."

"And when will that be? I've been here for four months and this is the first time you've been here. It's not like you make the effort to be here every weekend, in fact, when it comes to your daughter, it looks like you don't make any effort at all."

That strikes a nerve, the anger that flares to life in the redhead's eyes enough to have Kate flinching back for a moment. "How dare you. You know nothing of my family."

Is she kidding? Kate takes a step toward her, pleased to see a little bit of fear wash over the woman's face. "I'm here _every day_ , I see her _every day_ , and I have never seen her more miserable than when you showed up this week. And if this is the kind of exit you make every visit, it's no wonder. Every time you leave, you take a piece of her heart with you. I only hope you're strong enough to carry that weight."

Without waiting for anything further from the woman, Kate turns and races up the stairs in search of a heartbroken little girl.

* * *

Kate heads immediately for the girl's suite, not at all surprised that her father insisted she have The Queen's Bedroom. Alexis is flung dramatically across the bed, face down and sobbing into the comforter and Kate's chest tightens at the sight. She has half a mind to go downstairs and drag Meredith up here, show her the devastation that she's caused.

But she won't leave Alexis alone.

She moves quietly into the room, eases onto the bed and lays a hand between the wings of her shoulder blades.

The girl starts at her touch, her head shooting up as a hopeful "Mom?" chokes out of her throat. Her face crumbles again when she realizes it's not her mother come to make recompense and Kate could kick herself for hurting the child all over again. Alexis surprises her, throwing an arm around her waist and burying her face in Kate's stomach, a fresh wave of tears soaking her shirt. Kate has no idea what to say, can't think of a single thing she could murmur to the girl to fix this so she just keeps her hand on her back, rubs soothing circles with her thumb while the child cries herself dry.

When her cries tone down to sniffling, Kate nudges her off her lap and crawls across the bed to snag a box of tissues off the night stand and offer them to Alexis. She takes one, dabs at her eyes and blows her nose inelegantly before taking two more and pressing one to each eye.

Kate reaches out and gently wraps a hand around her upper arm, her thumb picking up that same sweeping rhythm she rubbed along her back. "I'm so sorry, 'Lex," she murmurs, the nickname slipping out before she's even conscious she's said it.

The kid releases a shaky exhale. "She thinks she loves me. But she only loves herself."

Kate's heart cracks clean in two at the child's words. How awful for an eight year old to be able to recognize that. How awful for an eight year old to have to deal with that.

Enough. This woman has caused enough hurt today. No more wallowing.

"Hey," Kate calls softly, shaking her arm so she raises her face from the tissues. "Can I hang out with you tonight? We can eat ice cream and watch a girly movie. Would that be okay?"

"You would do that?" Alexis breathes, wonder stealing over her face.

"Of course."

Her watery eyes light up with excitement. "Can we watch High School Musical?"

Kate barks a laugh of relief. "Whatever you want."

* * *

Alexis changes into pajamas while Kate relays the evening plans to the house staff, Doris taking point on setting up an ice cream sundae bar. When the girl realizes that Kate has no pajamas, she charges into the Lincoln Bedroom ( _the freaking Lincoln Bedroom)_ and digs a soft, flannel set out for her. They're white with pink piping and little pink flowers dotting the fabric and completely not Kate's style but they're offered up to her with the most glowing smile and there's no way she can refuse them.

"You can change in here," Alexis tells her, skipping to the door and pulling it closed behind her. Kate does so quickly, leaving her own clothes folded neatly in a stack on the bed and her heels lined up on the floor, and pads down the hall to the West Sitting Room where Alexis is flipping through the DVD menu, Zac Efron's overexcited face splashed across the screen.

Doris rolls in a cart with their ice cream as well as 2 bowls of macaroni and cheese and some fresh fruit. "My favorite!" Alexis exclaims, grabbing one of the bowls of pasta and settling herself at the coffee table to dig in.

The housekeeper detours toward Kate on her way out, squeezing her forearm lightly with a soft, "Thank you."

"Thank you for this."

"Oh, this is nothing, dear. Not compared to what you're doing for her."

Kate blushes at that, mumbles an awkward, "Of course," and the woman moves on.

Kate gathers the other bowl of macaroni and cheese and the fruit as well and settles on the sofa to watch Troy and Gabriella sing and the Wildcats go for the title.

* * *

Rick slumps against the wall of the elevator as he unknots the bow tie of his tux, leaves the fluttering ends around his neck as he undoes the noose of buttons at his throat. The dinner was nice but it's been a long week and while he was glad to be able to avoid his ex-wife tonight and give his daughter some time with her mother, he would rather have spent the evening in his sitting room with a drink and the latest Connelly novel.

And now he has to come home to said ex-wife who will probably try yet again to get herself back in his bed just like she did when Alexis went to bed after dinner on Wednesday night.

"C'mon, Rick, for old time's sake," she'd purred as her lips skated up his neck. It was tempting for a moment -he is still a man with needs after all- but it was all wrong, her perfume too strong, her hair nowhere near brown enough for his liking.

She wasn't Kate.

He steps off the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind him as he undoes his cummerbund, shrugs out of his jacket and slings both over his arm before stepping into the Center Hall. He hears the drone of the TV at the west end, but it's well past Alexis's bedtime and so he steels himself for Meredith still being here, waiting for him. He hears a pair of voices as he nears the room, one very distinctly his daughter's, the other sotto voice mostly unfamiliar but hope flares in his belly, his heart picking up speed as he thinks he recognizes who it is.

He has to lean against the doorway for support as the sight of Kate Beckett and his daughter curled up on the sofa together makes him weak; the woman's arm is wrapped around the girl, the child's head pillowed on her shoulder. They're chatting about the movie on the screen –High School Musical 2 if he recalls correctly from the millions of times Alexis has insisted on watching all of them- and completely unaware of his presence. So he takes the opportunity to just observe them, notes the relaxed and sleepy lines of his daughter, how her body is practically molded against the agent's, the level of comfort and trust she has in the woman blatantly obvious. Kate looks so natural here, looks equally as relaxed, the feminine pajamas she has on making her look even younger. The scene fills his heart to bursting and he wants nothing more than to join them, to settle beside Alexis and pull her into his lap, take her place against Kate's side and slide his arm over the woman's shoulders as she melts against him.

The longing is so strong that his throat wells up and he has to clear it to be able to breathe but, of course, as soon as he does, they're aware that he's behind them, turning with twin looks of surprise.

"Daddy!" Alexis bounds off the sofa, way too energetic for this time of night. But he notes the bowls on the coffee table, the remnants of sprinkles and chocolate sauce.

"You had an ice cream party and didn't invite me?" he pouts as his daughter flings her arms around him, giggling.

"You had a fancy dinner to go to!"

"Would have rather had ice cream," he mutters.

"It's all in the kitchen now; Kate put it away while I switched to DVD's from High School Musical to High School Musical 2," she informs him. "You can still have some."

"But you should be in bed." He taps a finger to her nose as he says it, her nose wrinkling and a fresh set of giggles overtaking her. "If you haven't had too much sugar to sleep."

Almost as if on cue, her jaw cracks open on a yawn. "I didn't realize what time it is. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Pumpkin, it's Friday, you can stay up late."

"I know," she answers, still looking sheepish. She always has been the more responsible of the two of them. "Hey Kate," she calls softly, turning toward the woman. "Would you, um…tuckmein?"

Kate sits stock still on the sofa before shaking her head, not in a "no" but more like she's trying to clear the shock away. "Sure, sweetie. Let me put the bowls in the kitchen and I'll be right there, okay?"

"Okay!" the girl answers brightly. "Night, Daddy." She hugs him again before hurrying down the hall to her room.

He watches for a moment before turning to Kate, is arrested again to see her in those cozy pajamas as she gathers the last of the dishes from the coffee table. Something's niggling at his brain though.

"Where's Meredith?"

Kate pauses on her way to the kitchen, a sudden hardness to the set of her jaw before she takes up her path again. He trails after as she sets the bowls in the sink.

"She had to go back to New York," Kate answers as she props a hip against the countertop, her voice measured. There's clearly more to the story.

"Why?"

"She got invited to a gallery opening." Her voice is not measured any longer, disdain and a mocking approximation of his ex-wife's tone laced through the words.

He sighs and rubs a hand down his face. "Something better than her daughter came along." She's done this before, left when it was convenient for her, regardless of any other plans.

"Alexis was devastated," Kate informs him, her voice watery and a little unsteady. She's practically crying over his daughter's wellbeing and it makes him fall for her that much more. She swallows hard, sniffs away her tears and turns her eyes to his. "So, I offered to hang out with her tonight. Let her pick the movie, your house staff was amazing and put together dinner and an ice cream bar for us. Your daughter found me these pajamas." She laughs softly, picking at the material.

He's speechless. Which is not something that is easily done for him. But he is rendered mute at the generosity of this woman that has only known his daughter for a handful of months.

"Thank you," he manages to choke out. He's so completely overwhelmed with her that he knows all of his defenses are down, all of the emotions that he's been trying to stuff down radiating out of him.

She ducks her head and he doesn't miss the self-deprecating roll of her eyes as she does. "Everyone keeps saying that. Doris thanked me too. I just…didn't want her to be alone when she was so sad."

"That's exactly why I'm thanking you." His voice is husky and he hopes that he can pass it off as emotional and not blame it on the lust clogging his throat.

She rolls her shoulders, lifts her head to look at him. Her eyes are soft, her lips curved up in a gentle smile. "It was my pleasure. I'm going to go say good night to her now."

She brushes past him and he has to fight hard against the urge to grab her by the arm, spin her around and fit his mouth to hers, cup her jaw in his palms as he pours his thanks into her mouth. So he just stands in limbo, the want a living thing in his belly, clawing at him for release.

His lungs burn as he realizes he's been holding a breath since she walked away and he exhales the air forcefully, immediately taking a few gulping, cleansing breaths. He moves back into the sitting room, drops his clothes on a chair and pours himself a few fingers of scotch. He tosses it all back in one go, hissing at the burn down his throat as he pours another.

The alcohol helps, the haze of lust being edged out by anger at his ex-wife. The woman's selfishness knows no bounds and she gives no fucks who she hurts along the way. Throughout the week, he had let himself start to believe that things could be different. That maybe she really did want to make an effort on the part of their daughter. But it's more likely that she was bored and popped down to D.C. to kill some time.

All at the expense of his little girl's fragile heart.

* * *

Alexis is asleep when Kate makes her way into the bedroom, already has the covers pulled up and a well-loved stuffed monkey under one arm. It's not a surprise, she was nodding off on the sofa, fighting it to try to get to the end of a movie that Kate is sure she's seen dozens of times if the way that she was quoting along is any indication.

She gazes at her for a moment, overwhelmed at the emotion that she feels for this beautiful child. She's becoming more than a job. Kate loves her and that terrifies her. Love can make one reckless, it can color judgements and put everyone in danger. But it can also be the most powerful weapon of all. She knows that no one else would protect her that way that she will.

She drops a kiss to Alexis's forehead, lingers there a moment to make sure the movement doesn't wake her and then slips quietly from the room.

She stops in the Lincoln Bedroom to change her clothing back, but carries her shoes out, not quite willing to put the last piece of armor on quite yet. Out in the hallway, she pauses. The stairs are right there, she could just leave. But she should say good night to him too. Even if she's afraid that she might just ask if she can stay. Best to make it quick, stay formal so as to maintain distance.

He's standing by the large windows with a tumbler of amber alcohol in his hand as she approaches. He looks contemplative. And sad. She wants to leave him to his thoughts but it feels rude to just sneak out.

"Good night," she calls out softly, turning to go.

"You even wonder how you got here?"

She stalls. "Sir?"

"There's a Truman quote someone told me once. 'For the first six months you wonder how the hell you ever got here. For the next six months you wonder how the hell the rest of them ever got here.'" He turns to her, his head cocked to one side, his face pinched in thought. "You ever wonder how you got here?"

"In a car. With my father."

He huffs a laugh. "You know what I mean."

She does. And she knows exactly what occurred in her life to bring her here. But while his daughter has seen her necklace and knows of her loss, it seems too dark a secret to reveal to this man. A man that she's begun to think of as a friend. A man that, were things different, were he not the freaking President, she might entertain the idea of something more. She turns to face him, finds that he's made his way around the sofa while she was lost in her thoughts.

"I think we make it to where we're meant to be based on circumstance. Sometimes, it's because of our conscious choices but mostly, things just happen and propel us forward."

The corner of his mouth quirks up. "I didn't expect you to be one that believes in fate."

"I don't…" That's not what she said. Is it? "I just mean that we don't always have control over things. Sometimes, things just happen." She stops there, can feel the confession welling in her throat, clogging up her airway, threatening to flood her eyes.

He looks at her in concern, as if he can see the words floating above her head. "You mean your mother."

Her jaw falls open in shock. "How-"

"It was in your file. Plus, my daughter is chatty. You might have noticed."

And with the secret out between them, the tears come. They're silent, no violent sobs, barely even a sniffle, but they burn tracks down her cheeks, drip onto his carpet. He trades his drink for a box of tissues, closes the distance to offer them up. She takes one and buries her face in it, presses the paper against her eyes to absorb to evidence.

She senses more than feels him step closer, the warmth of the breadth of him wafting over her. He places a tentative hand on her shoulder, the move causing the crown of her head to land on his sternum. She presses her head against him, grateful for his support. He takes the move as permission and wraps his arms around her, draws her against him and she lifts her head to rest against his chest, the lack of shoes slotting her crown right under his chin and a fresh wave of tears comes.

No one has ever held her while she cried about her mother. She shut her high school and college friends out, her father never let her see him cry and she in turn did the same. Even her captain got a clinical, dry eyed version of the story, just an officer giving the pertinent information to a superior.

But this? This is pity that she never thought she wanted. This is comfort that she never thought she deserved. This is so far beyond the line of acceptable for her job and her heart but she can't seem to care. Because in his arms is solace, in his arms is a peace that she didn't think existed.

That thought throws ice water over her, the line that she hasn't allowed herself to cross so far behind her that she can't even see it right now.

She jerks away from him suddenly, averts her eyes from the crestfallen look in his. "I'm sorry, I have to, um, I should go. I'm so sorry." She hastens for the stairs.

"Kate, no, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

But she's gone.

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you to Lou for whipping this chapter into shape._

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	5. Chapter 5

He can't seem shake the thought that he should apologize.

Maybe?

He's not even entirely sure what for but the way she left so suddenly has him thinking that an apology is in order.

Not that he even really feels sorry for anything. Holding her in his arms was so much less than what he wanted to do but is apparently so much more than she will allow. But it wasn't at first. He gave her plenty of opportunity to move away, but she leaned into him, she hid her face against his chest. And cried. The shudders that wracked her frame ran fissure lines though his heart for the young woman that lost her mother and has never really gotten over it.

Did he upset her by showing his hand on knowing about her past? He had just been so convinced that that's what she was hedging around and he wanted to let her know that she could talk about it. He didn't expect her to just crumble before him.

And then she was gone before he could say anything else. But he feels like he should.

She protects his daughter. When did this get so complicated?

* * *

When she was a kid, the end of school was the most exhilarating day of her life but Kate never thought that she would find such relief in it as an adult. Because the end of school means the end of her daily detail of Alexis. And as much as she loves the girl, as much as misses her on the days that Kate's service isn't needed, it also means that her chances of running into Alexis's father are far less.

She ran away from the man. When all he was doing was comforting her. How do you talk to someone after that?

Luckily, with her assignments landing her anywhere she's needed, she's barely had to worry about that for the last few weeks. Save for escorting the German Chancellor to a meeting with the President, she hasn't seen him at all. And there was press there most of the time so he didn't even have a chance to say anything to her. It's been a nice change of pace.

But July 4th is coming up and she has a feeling that he'll be unavoidable then.

* * *

There's a buzz of excitement, she can feel it as soon as she opens her eyes. Today is special. Today, there'll be a big party and lots of food and fireworks. Today, she gets to be with Daddy as people become American citizens. And she gets to wear her pretty new dress.

That's the thought that makes Alexis leap out of bed, ready for the day. Her dress is waiting for her, laid out with her new blue sandals. She pulls off her pajamas and tugs the dress over her head, twirling a few times to make the light, white fabric of the skirt flare out. She giggles as it tickles her legs and runs into her bathroom, brushes her teeth and then carefully brushes out her hair, starting at the ends and working the knots out all the way up like she was taught. Once it's straight and silky down her back, she runs back through her room, grabbing her sandals as she goes and skips down the hall and into Daddy's room. He's holding a tie up to his neck, drops it down and lifts another, his face twisting up funny as he thinks.

She laughs and he turns to her. "Neither of those, Daddy, it's too hot for a tie today."

"This is just for this morning, I'm wearing that later." He points to a deep red, short sleeved shirt with buttons down the front that's draped across a chair.

"Oh! Well, still neither of those," she tells him as she traipses over to his closet, selecting a marine blue tie from the rack. "Wear a blue one this morning."

He takes it from her and holds it up, nodding approvingly. "What would I do without you?" he asks as he winds it around his neck and starts the complicated process of tying it.

She shrugs and she climbs on his bed to watch, asks him to help with her shoes once he's slid his suit jacket on. He tickles her feet first ("Daddy, no!" she gasps in between giggles) but works the straps through the buckles and tightens them down. He lifts her off the bed and sets her gently on the carpet, offers his hand for her to hold as they make their way out.

She likes the feel of her daddy's hand in hers. It's so much bigger than hers, makes her feel safe. She feels safe when she's holds Agent Kate's hand too but her hand is a lot smaller. Alexis imagines she'd feel the safest in the world with one hand in Daddy's and one hand in Agent Kate's.

"Daddy, will I see Agent Kate today?" she asks as they start down the stairs

"Mmmm, yeah, I think so."

"Can she come watch movies with me again some night? It doesn't even have to be Girl's Night, you can come too."

"I don't know, Alexis, we'll see." He's using that voice that means no, just putting her off and hoping that she'll forget and it makes her lips turn down in a pout.

"Please, Daddy, pleeeease."

"Alexis," his voice is sharp and he turns hard eyes on her. "I said 'we'll see.'"

She drops the subject with a sigh, because when he sounds like that, there's no way she'll win.  
But she has no time to think about it as they descend to the State Floor. There are people everywhere and they all jump to attention when they see Daddy, some of the men in uniform snapping a salute while everyone is telling him "Good morning, sir." A woman with a clipboard comes up and starts going over everything he has to do today.

But Alexis doesn't hear what she's saying when she spots the person that she was looking for. "Agent Kate!" she cries, running from her dad's side and flinging herself at the agent's legs.

* * *

The greeting is unexpected and Kate isn't sure what to do with the girl suddenly wrapped around her midsection.

"Hey, Alexis," she greets over the din in the hallway, the sheer number of people a security nightmare, credentials or not.

"Alexis!" The girl pulls away at her father's voice, turning sheepishly to face him. "That was very rude, Tracy was talking to us, not to mention dangerous, you know you can't just run away from me like that."

"But we're still at home, Daddy. And I was running to Agent Kate, not away."

His eyes flicker up to her, as if he's just now aware that she's there. She twists her mouth in an apology for Alexis's actions but his eyes are filled with regret, his look implying that he's not focused on what's happening currently.

And that look exactly is why she's been trying to avoid seeing him again. She knew that he would blame himself for her actions when he did nothing wrong that night. She encouraged him to wrap her in his arms, she's the one that willingly cried against his chest.

She's the one that bolted with no explanation.

She shifts her attention to the child between them before she blurts out an apology that only he would understand. One that would have other people asking a lot of questions. "Still, Alexis, he's right. You know that you have to be handed off to agents."

The kid shrinks, hiding behind her loose hair. "I know."

"Okay, so let Tracy tell you what events you're needed at today," she says, softer, while tucking the girl's hair behind her ear to reveal her face again. The action is almost unconscious and as she shifts her attention up to the aide, she catches Rick looking at her out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't return the look but she doesn't miss the soft smile on his face, the besotted look in his eyes. She doesn't need this, him getting all emotional over how she treats his daughter.

When did this all get so complicated?

* * *

Alexis is an angel the rest of the morning. She charms everyone at the naturalization ceremony, shakes each person's hand and congratulates them on becoming an American. She stays with Kate and Agent Harris like she's supposed to, listens attentively to whatever they tell her. She doesn't even run from them when she spots her grandparents at the party on the South Lawn.

"There's my Gram and Gramps!" She grabs Kate's hand, tugging her along towards them, only letting go when her grandmother is within arm's reach.

"Alexis, darling!" the woman proclaims, clasping the girl with bejeweled hands. "Look at how lovely you are in that dress!"

Alexis giggles and twirls to make the skirt dance. "Are you having fun, Gram?"

"Of course, dear, how could I not?" She sweeps a hand across the lawn, over the games of volleyball and horseshoes being played, the dance party over by the DJ, the spread of food, summer fruits a kaleidoscope across the tables.

"Hey, Munchkin," her grandfather greets, squatting down so that she can throw her arms around his neck.

"Oh, how very rude of me, Martha Rodgers." Alexis's grandmother extends a hand toward Kate and she takes it, fully aware of whom the woman is but amused all the same that she's taking the time to say hello. "I already know George there." She waves a hand dismissively towards the lead agent even while he nods at her, offering a low, "Ma'am."

"That's Agent Kate," Alexis chirps.

"Beckett," Kate corrects. "Agent Beckett."

"Nonsense, darling, you're more than your last name. Now, Kate, is that your full name?"

She finds herself intimidated by this vivacious redhead, the woman's eyes shrewd as she waits for a response. Kate ducks her head, feels the blush spread over her cheeks.

"Katherine, actually. My parents named me after Katherine Hepburn." She's not sure why she adds in that tidbit, only that she feels that Martha would keep digging until she knew.

"Oh, Katherine is a beautiful name." She pats the hand that is still ensconced in hers before dropping it to reach for the gentleman with her. "This is my husband, Joseph."

"Of course Senator, pleased to meet you." Kate didn't need a file on Joe Rodgers to know who he was. She'd been voting for the New York Senator as long as she'd been able to.

"Gramps, come dance with me!" Alexis latches onto her grandfather's hand, tugging with all her might.

"Sorry, Agent Beckett, duty calls." Joe turns and scoops up Alexis, spinning with the girl towards the cheerful music, her face reddening with breathless delight.

Kate follows after them, maintaining distance, registers Harris fanning out to the other side to increase coverage. She catalogs the party goers, makes note of the beach balls being flung haphazardly, the gaggle of preteen girls giggling loudly, the families sharing lunch at the tables scattered about.

She settles at a high top table at the edge of the makeshift dance floor; the proximity good enough to keep an eye on both Alexis and the other attendees. Martha sidles up beside her and she's ashamed to admit that she didn't even notice the woman following her, though she does manage to avoid jumping when she sets her drink next to Kate's elbow.

"And how did you end up in the agency, Katherine?"

Rick's mother is certainly not shy. "I was with the NYPD and we had a case that the feds took jurisdiction on. I guess I worked hard enough on it to get some attention." She shrugs self-deprecatingly, still mostly unsure how her actions there got her here.

"Oh, a New Yorker! Tell me, how is the city?"

"It was great when I left it five months ago. I still miss it most days."

"Did the city find you or were you born into it?"

"Born and raised, though I never wanted to escape it." Not like some of her childhood friends, people for whom the beating heart of New York City pounded them into the ground. Kate thinks she just liked the challenge of beating back against it.

"And yet you've ended up here." Martha is inquisitive but doesn't press her and Kate can see the parts of her personality that Rick and Alexis have acquired.

She lifts a shoulder. "Who refuses an offer to be in the Secret Service?" Her, almost. It was terrifying to accept yet Kate knew that it was something she would regret the rest of her life if she didn't at least try.

"True," Martha agrees, raising her cup in a mock toast. "After Richard's father was killed, I was determined to stay in New York forever, let the sound of the city drown out my grief." She's lost in the story and doesn't see Kate swallow down the lump in her throat, lower her head to blink away that grief that she understands all too well. "But then Joseph came along and he made me, well, made us, so happy that I was willing to follow his dreams anywhere. And so here we are. We're back in New York a lot, of course, but with Richard and Alexis here full time, I find I'm making the trip less and less."

Despite anything she's read in all the files she's had to commit to memory, Kate still thought that, on some level, the story was just that, a tale, propaganda that a campaign manager came up with to garner sympathy, drum up votes. But Martha talks about it with such conviction that Kate has to believe that Rick's birth father was a CIA agent killed in action and the redhead speaks so glowingly of her second husband that Kate can see how he pulled her from her grief, created a family for her and her young son, gave the boy a father.

"I brought my father with me," Kate confesses, "couldn't bear the thought of leaving him behind. I get it."

"Just your father?" Kate braces, dreading what might come next. "You're saying that a woman as gorgeous and successful as you doesn't have a significant other?

She laughs, giddy with relief that she doesn't have to reveal the darkest side of her in the bright summer sun, and shakes her head. "Nope. Never have had time with work. I usually have something more important to do." She looks meaningfully at Alexis before dragging her eyes back to Martha.

The woman nods. "Well, I suppose I can't fault you for that. Alexis speaks glowingly of you when we see her at dinner. Richard too, for that matter."

She can't stop the flush that she knows overtakes her. He talks about her? To his mother? She tucks a non-existent stray hair behind her ear, wishes she hadn't pulled it into a pony tail today so she could occupy her trembling hand with a loose strand. "When do you guys have dinner together?"

"Oh, we visit every weekend. When you're getting some blessed respite from my exuberant granddaughter."

Kate takes offense to that, the implication that she needs a break from Alexis an insult. "I miss her on the weekends, actually. She's a good kid. The best. I've barely seen her since school's been out and have been looking forward to today because I knew I'd be with her all day." She stops to suck in a breath, having said all of that on a rush of air, desperate to make sure that Martha understands that her granddaughter is not a burden to Kate.

Martha pats her hand and smiles reassuringly. "I know that all the agents that protect her value her safety but I'm glad she has someone on her detail that loves her as much as Richard and Joseph and I do."

Maybe she was too effective in expressing her feelings. She avoids the redhead's knowing gaze, takes another visual sweep of the party but finds everything in the same order it has been. She doesn't know how to respond to that. She doesn't want to refute it, because it's certainly not untrue, but she can't really admit to it either. She's not supposed to feel so strongly about her charge and doing so could at the very least get her moved to another detail but would more likely get her fired.

She's saved by Joe and Alexis joining them, the man winded and red-faced, the girl bright eyed and bouncy. Alexis's hair is flying everywhere, her hands unable to keep it out of her eyes and Kate drops to a knee, offers her the hair tie around her wrist and the girl turns, tipping her head back to allow Kate to pull it in to a ponytail. It's a practiced move, one that they've done many times when she's left school with her hair askew and driving her crazy. When she stands, Martha averts her attention to her husband that has stolen her drink, scolding him to get his own but Kate knows that the warm smile on her face has everything to do with the wordless scene she just witnessed.

* * *

The rest of the day is wonderful, Alexis stands with Rick while he address the crowd with inspiring words, they all dance along to a performance by The Black Eyed Peas (Kate is careful to use Alexis as a buffer from Rick, doesn't want to make anything more confusing) and everyone gathers on the roof of the White House for a breathtaking view of fireworks. Since there's a direct route to the Residence from here, the agents are dismissed and Harris takes his leave to join his family. But Alexis shyly asks Kate if she'll join them and there's no way that she's going to disappoint the girl.

The photographer uses the chance to get some shots of Rick and Alexis silhouetted against the bursts of lights but when he moves on, Alexis beckons her over, pats the spot beside her. Her immediate instinct is to refuse, say that she's fine where she is. The girl's father is on her other side and to sit like that would feel too intimate, too familial. But, yet again, she can't stand to put disappointment in her sparking blue eyes and so she joins them.

* * *

He can barely see the sparkling fire in the sky, not when Kate Beckett is sitting so close. The slight body of his daughter does little to block her presence from him, she's still close enough that he could slide an arm over both their shoulders, curl his fingers around Kate's bicep. It would take nothing for her to lean around behind Alexis and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He has to force in a breath against the tightness in his chest, curl a hand in a hard fist on his knee to suppress the longing that thought stirs.

He barely watches the rest of the show, hums ascent when Alexis points out a particularly beautiful firework and he absolutely does not look at Kate. Not when he's worried that his heart might tumble right out of his throat.

She leaves quickly afterward, hugging his daughter and, surprisingly, his mother before shooting a small smile and a waggle of her fingers in his direction before slipping through the door. His eyes stay trained on the closed door until Alexis's call of "Daddy, let's go!" snaps him out of it. His mother isn't directly looking at him but has definitely noticed his interest, if the pleased smile on her face is any indication. He takes Alexis's hand as they descend the stairs, the girl's jaw cracking open in a yawn.

"You're staying in the Lincoln tonight?" Rick asks his parents.

"If that's alright, dear."

"Of course."

"Can you tuck me in?" Alexis asks her grandparents as they enter the Residence and they murmur agreement.

He hugs his daughter good night, his parents as well when they indicate that they'll be going to bed after taking care of Alexis, and makes an escape to his bedroom, peeling off the dark shirt that he now regrets choosing. Though the rake of Kate's eyes up and down his chest when he appeared in it definitely made it worth it. He changes into pajamas, moves through the sitting hall into the kitchen and pours himself a drink. He keeps it at just a finger of scotch even though he wants to drown his riotous thoughts with the entire bottle. He pours a glass of red wine as an afterthought.

He stands at the large picture window, rests his forehead against the too warm glass and stares blankly at the greenery below. He waits until he hears the soft pad of footsteps behind him and wordlessly holds out the wine, his mother taking it with a chuckle.

"I said I was going to bed."

"Yeah, well, I know you, Mother. You have something on your mind."

"So do you, kiddo."

He sighs, the sound turning into a groan at the end and he pushes away from the window, throws back the scotch and goes to pour himself another. She waits him out while he sets the drink on the coffee table and slumps into the sofa.

"Katherine is a lovely woman," she begins gently as she settles gracefully on a cushion on the other side of the L-shaped furniture.

"Mother." His tone is threatening but weak and she doesn't let it deter her.

"At least tell me you've thought about it."

"Of course," he admits. "She's…" A whole encyclopedia of words parades though his head and his voice stutters a few times as he tries to continue but he can't settle on just one descriptor for the woman that he cannot get out of his head. Or even two words. It might take a whole novel. So he just shrugs and reiterates, "Of course."

"Oh, Richard, you have it bad."

He scrubs a hand down his face. "I know."

"She loves your daughter." Martha says it low, knows that it's almost cruel to point it, knows that it won't make his complicated feelings on the matter any easier.

He buries his face in his hands, his elbows digging into his knees. "I knooooooow." It draws out him, the vowel drowning in frustration and distress and she moves to perch beside her son, lays a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" He raises shining eyes to her, feels like a little boy again as she wipes moisture from his cheeks with her fingertips. "I'm the President, she protects my daughter, it's completely unprecedented. Besides…" He trails off, not wanting to say this part out loud, afraid that uttering it could make it come true.

"Besides, what?"

"What if she doesn't feel the same?" he mumbles, dropping his eyes to his hands where his fingers are fidgeting with one another.

His mother's hand covers both of his and he flicks his eyes up to her. "Oh, my dear son, I assure you that the woman I met today feels the same."

Honestly, he was afraid of that too.

He sighs, the exhale taking no tension from his body. "What am I going to do?"

* * *

What is she going to do?

Alexis is out cold, completely worn out from running around at her friend's birthday party tonight and Kate can't get her to rouse enough to walk on her own. She could carry the girl in but while the 8 year old isn't large, that much kid in her arms sounds like a work out that Kate wasn't prepared for tonight.

But it does seem like the last good option.

Well, not good because it means it will put her face to face with Rick, something she hasn't done in a few weeks, not since July 4th when he sat stiffly on the other side of Alexis and completely ignored her. But it's fine; she can deposit his daughter and leave. He certainly doesn't want her to stick around for more.

Her arms are burning by the time the elevator opens and she beelines for Alexis's room, desperate to set the girl on her bed to get some relief.

"Kate?" Rick's voice drift down the hallway but she ignores him, continues on her way.

She settles the girl as gently as she can atop the comforter, shaking out her arms before moving to the other side of the bed to pull the blanket down. Rick comes into the room as she's fluffing up pillows, he takes off Alexis's shoes and pants and slides his daughter to the spot Kate prepared for her to sleep on. They pull the covers up together, Rick drops a kiss to his daughter's forehead, and then they slip out of the room.

He still hasn't looked at her, apparently has decided that he can't stand her anymore but as she turns to go, she's stopped by his fingers against her arm. "Stay for minute?" he whispers it even though he doesn't have to, even though they're far enough away from Alexis's room.

She wants to say no, she wants to just be gone but she's intrigued by the bashful look on his face, the fact that he's willingly touching her when the last time she saw him, he did the exact opposite.

She finds herself nodding, murmuring "Okay" and following him down the hall.

"Do you want something to drink?" He hovers as she sits gingerly on the sofa.

"Um, water?"

"Sure. Be right back." He scurries off to the kitchen and she tries to relax, tries to settle back, tries not to think on the million different reasons he could have asked her to stay.

He comes back with two glasses, presses one into her hand with a brush of his fingers to hers and then settles opposite her, immediately setting his water on the table without drinking it. She takes a sip if just for something to do before setting hers on the table as well.

"So…what's up?" She can't stand the silence, the tension that prickles along her skin.

"Um, so I was thinking… I wanted to ask you…"

His stammering is almost adorable and she finds the corners of her mouth quirking up for a moment before smothering it down. "Ask me what?" She says it encouragingly, hopes she can provide a comfortable space for him to ask what he's trying to.

"Okay, um, have you ever thought about reopening your mother's case?"

Her stomach drops, her heart leaps into her throat and goosebumps break out along the back of her neck. Of all the things that she thought he would ask, this is the possibly the last thing on the list.

"No." The word scrapes out of her, filled with the horror she's feeling and he shrinks back a little. Good.

"I just thought, you'd have some resources here and-"

"No." She's decisive this time but he sits up straighter, seems ready to fight her on it.

"Why don't you want to investigate it?"

"For the same reason a recovering alcoholic doesn't drink. You don't think I haven't been down that road? You don't think I haven't memorized every line in her file? My first three years on the force, every off-duty moment was spent looking for something someone missed. It took me a year of therapy to realize, if I didn't let it go, it was going to destroy me. And so I let it go."

He looks embarrassed, his shoulders up around his ears like a child that was just reprimanded.

"Sorry. I didn't know."

"Yeah, well, now you do."

She stands to leave, ready to get out of here, away from this conversation. But he stops her again.

"There was, um, one other thing."

"Rick." His name is a warning, a shield being thrown in front of her.

"Something completely different." He holds his hands up to ward her off.

She huffs in frustration, her body orientating to the exit, her feet straining to leave. Why isn't she leaving anyway, why is she staying to hear what it is he has to say?

"We're going to Camp David for a long weekend next month; Alexis wanted to go before school starts back up. She was wondering if you wanted to come too? Not for work, we only take a few agents anyway, just as a guest."

Her head reels at the change in topic and she drops her chin to her chest to shield her relief from him for a moment. As she raises her face back up, she takes in the hesitant lines of his body, the shy way he's withdrawn, hands clasped and shoulders curled in to close himself off and it reminds her of how he was at the end of the day on July 4th, the actions she took as avoidance making more sense now. Is it…it's not possible that her crush is reciprocated, is it? The thought makes her flush with giddiness.

But she's still wary of the invitation hidden behind his daughter's wishes. "Alexis wants me to go?" she asks, her eyes narrowing as she places emphasis and doubt on the inflection of his daughter's name.

"Yeah." He shrugs, his eyes darting everywhere but on her face.

"Just Alexis?" she murmurs, surprised to find the question falling out of her mouth. Why is she pushing this now, so soon after he dropped the bomb of her mother's case over her head? She blames it on the hope that his invitation has bloomed in her heart.

"Maybe," he starts, dropping his eyes to his toes scuffing against the carpet. He clears his throat, tries again. "Maybe I wouldn't mind if you were there either."

Her heart flutters behind her ribs at his confession and she drifts a step closer, her body orientating towards him now, her feet straining to be closer and her movement makes his head snap up. "I'd love to."

The smile that steals across his face floods joy through her blood.

* * *

 _A/N: Continued appreciation to Lou for making me make my words prettier. Even when I yell at her._

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	6. Chapter 6

What. Is. She. Thinking?

In the weeks since she was invited to Camp David, Kate's been excited at the prospect. She's eager to explore all the nature trails, take advantage of some of the activities that are offered and just allow herself some time to relax. Even her dad seemed excited for her when she told him why she couldn't come see him on a particular weekend. It didn't help his conviction that she's on the President's detail though. Good thing that Jim doesn't know about her interest in the man either, she'd never hear the end of it then. Although, she is pretty well unable to not blush and act like a silly schoolgirl when Rick is mentioned. She's sure that's not gone unnoticed.

Things have been easier between her and Rick since the invitation was extended. He smiles when he sees her around the West Wing and she finds that it's effortless to return it, her lips curving up before she's really even conscious of it. They chat when she drops Alexis off, nothing heavy, no more mention of her mother's case, but even the light banter is enough to have her start hoping again.

It starts her thinking about it. About _them_. What it could be like if they really try this, if she lets him hold her instead of running away, if they spend their evenings and even their nights together. She's pretty sure that he wants to explore what's between them just as much as she's curious about it. And she's been thinking that the long weekend at Camp David could be just the place to approach him about it.

But now that the weekend looms before her, now that there's nothing more than a car ride between her and the Camp, she's unsure. What if he's just flirting with her to be nice? What if he's just grateful for what she does for his daughter? What if she's completely wrong about all of this?

Only one way to find out.

* * *

She didn't consider all the press. The President on vacation is a big deal to media outlets and they're poised by the gates to capture images of all the guests as they arrive. Kate pulls her well-worn Yankees cap low over her eyes as security checks her credentials against the guest list, lets her sunglasses shield the rest of her face as she drives sedately past the media's cameras, hopes that her lack of interest in them will have them doing the same to her.

She parks and gets checked in easily enough and, despite her insistence that she can carry it, her luggage is deposited in Maple Cabin and she's left to explore her home for the next few days with a friendly "Welcome to Camp David, Ms. Beckett."

Not even "Agent." She really is on vacation.

* * *

Marine One arrives a few hours later, the helicopter's roar cutting amidst the relative tranquilly of the grounds. Kate is exploring the woods behind her cabin when they arrive and while she sees other guests out on the paths heading toward the clearing to greet the President and his daughter, she continues her trek through the trees, tries to determine which one would be good for climbing to give her a different perspective.

The further out she goes, the more she thinks that the oak very near her cabin is the best choice and so she picks her way back through the underbrush until she's standing under the tree. Kate studies its branches critically, planning the best path through its foliage before grasping a thick branch and hauling herself up to begin the climb, relishing the pull of her muscles as she reaches higher, secures her feet against the bark and pushes up through the leaves. A wide, secure branch provides itself as a good perch and she plops down gratefully, wipes at her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt, cringing at the grimy mess it leaves behind, tries to wipe her hands on her pants and gets the same result. No matter, she can shower when she climbs down.

She's appreciating the view, the greenery of the retreat when their voices carry to her ears. She hears Alexis first, bubbly and excited, the sound of the girl's voice spilling a silly grin over Kate's face. Her father responds to her and the change in Kate is instantaneous. Gone is the bright burst that she felt at Alexis's voice, replaced with a want low in her belly, her attraction to Rick swamping her senses, her hearing drowned out by the timbre of his voice, the rough bark under her fingers scraping her nerve endings. Excitement makes her head buzz and a big dash of hope that this could be the start of something joins the mix. She takes a cleansing breath against the onslaught of emotions and when her senses clear, she notices that their voices are closer now. She twists to see them walking hand in hand across the back lawn of Aspen Lodge towards the path that separates their cabin from hers.

"Do you think she's here yet?"

"We can see. But she might be swimming or taking a hike. She's here for vacation too, Alexis."

"I know." She sounds disappointed. "I was just hoping to do some things with Agent Kate."

Oh, this kid. Her sweetness knows no bounds and Kate's heart swells even more for her. She sits quietly as they approach her cabin and Alexis knocks on the door.

"Who is it?" she calls down, unable to hold back the laughter as they both startle and look upward to follow the sound of her voice.

A peal of laughter escapes Alexis. "Agent Kate, what are you doing up there?"

She doesn't answer, just starts her descent, dropping down beside them where they've come to stand by the base of the tree. "First of all, I was up there because why not? Trees are fun to climb." She grins, free and happy, already rejuvenated by being in nature. "Second of all, you're gonna have to just call me Kate this weekend, kid. I'm on vacation."

"Okay! Will you teach me to climb?"

"If it's okay with your dad." She falters a moment as she flicks her eyes over to him, takes in his casual attire, the t-shirt bulging over his biceps distracting for a moment. "And if you promise not to climb without an adult around."

"Deal!" She agrees easily.

Kate turns that grin to the girl's father, instantly breathless by the look he's giving her. She's not sure that she can even really interpret it. There's affection and joy, warmth and a healthy dose of lust. She thinks she can see other things that she doesn't want to name, but that might be her imagination getting away from her.

"Hey," he says softly, the simple syllable infused with everything she can see in his eyes and hesitation takes residence in her gut, her plan to talk to him this weekend crumbling. What if she ruins this? What if it's not what he wants and she's completely misinterpreting?

What if it is and her fear makes her miss her chance?

"Hey." It comes out breathless and far sexier than she intended, especially in front of his daughter, but his eyes darken for a moment, the muscles of his jaw flexing and she suddenly wonders what the work of those muscles would feel like under her lips. She averts her eyes, clears her throat and tries again, focusing on Alexis to keep herself under control. "So, I know you guys just got here, I'll let you get settled in. I should probably shower." It's not the best thing she could say, the way that his eyes roam over her body making it obvious that he's now imagining that shower.

"Yeah," he says, his voice rough, requiring his own throat clearing before he continues. "We'll see you for the cookout tonight?"

"Daddy makes the best hamburgers!"

Kate smiles at that, the girl's enthusiasm one of the best tension breakers on the planet. "Yeah, I'll be there."

* * *

She watches from her cabin until there are other people milling around at Aspen before she heads over for dinner. It's ridiculous, waiting for the buffer of other guests so that she's not alone with him, but she doesn't trust her own emotions right now. Vacation Kate is bold, ready to confess her thoughts and feelings and launch herself at him but Everyday Kate knows that she has to approach this right, can't rush into to anything. She gets herself a drink, waves back at Alexis when the girl spots her from the game of tag that she and the other kids are playing, makes small talk with the other guests. Among them is the other senator from New York but she doesn't spend much time talking with William Bracken, finds him to be smarmy and disingenuous, and he spends most of the conversation trying to sell her on his political platform.

She's aware of where Rick is the whole time, orbits around his spot at the grill where he's whistling to himself as he flips burgers, rotates hot dogs. She watches as people move in to talk to him, moving away after a few minutes. She takes in his relaxed stance, is pleased to see that he's still in the t-shirt from earlier, his shorts showing off his toned calves.

She's also aware of Danny, the official White House photographer flitting about. She knows that she's ended up in a few shots, knows that because of her job any photo that's published can't identify her but it adds to her fear. She's always been very private, kept to herself. Rick's life is the exact opposite of that, everything he says or does or thinks is up for scrutiny. If they entered into anything, she'd be subjected to that same microscopic investigation of her life. She'd like to delude herself into thinking that they could keep it secret until there's something to tell but she's learned that there are no such things as secrets in Washington.

The disappointment settles over her, makes her stomach queasy and she sets her drink down to seek out a bathroom, somewhere private where she can gather her thoughts for a moment.

"Kate?"

Damn it. She wasn't paying enough attention to the path she was taking and has ended up swinging right by him. But it would be rude to ignore him so she forces a smile and turns to face him.

"Mr. President."

He grimaces at the greeting. "If my daughter has to call you Kate this weekend, I have to insist that you call me Rick."

She hesitates for a moment but then squares her shoulders with resolve and replies, "I can do that." She certainly calls him Rick enough in her mind, but she's rarely used his first name to his face. The last time she remembers doing it was as a warning when he asked her about reopening her mom's case.

"Good." He smiles at her answer, his whole face lighting up in joy, his eyes crinkling with delight and, oh, she'd agree to anything if he'll always be as happy as that. He turns his attention back to the food but she catches him taking in her attire out of the corner of his eye. The summer dress is comfortable, sure, the soft cotton of the skirt swishing about her thighs but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't thinking about how it accentuates her legs when she put it on. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, low enough for the comment to be for her ears only and she blushes, ducks her head.

"Thank you." He smiles briefly before continuing to work the grill and she turns her attention to the other guests again. "Are your parents coming?"

"No, they had long standing plans in New York this weekend. Mother sounded upset that she would miss it but there will be other chances."

"Would have been nice to see her again, we had a nice chat on July fourth."

"Oh?" She thinks that he's trying to sound casual but he's failing spectacularly, his interest in that conversation glaringly obvious.

"Yeah, she's great." She spots a Delaware senator hovering, trying to get his chance to speak. "I won't monopolize your time, your other guests want to see you too. I'll see you around this weekend, Rick." She pops the "k" at the end of his name, likes the flare of surprise it flashes in his eyes and finally makes that escape to some solitude.

* * *

Kate wakes Saturday morning, refreshed and ready to explore the retreat. But not without coffee.

She dresses quickly and strolls down the path to Laurel Lodge, where she was told she could get breakfast, and is thrilled to find an array of coffees and many flavored syrups. She goes with her usual, puts a few pumps of vanilla syrup in her mug and stirs in creamer, grabs a banana and a bagel from the table.

Alexis is flagging her down when she turns, the girl's arm waving making her chuckle. She makes her way to the end of the long table where Alexis and her father are finishing their breakfast and settles into a chair opposite them

"Good morning, Kate!" Alexis chirps, grinning at the greeting, proud of herself for remembering not to call her "agent."

Kate nods approvingly. "Good morning, Alexis, Rick."

He raises his coffee mug in greeting. "Morning. Any plans yet today?"

"No, not quite yet. I was going to just walk around the trails and see what looked interesting."

"We're walking trails today! Mrs. Judy is taking us."

Rick laughs softly at his daughter's outburst. "One of the Senator's wives volunteered to take all the kids out on the trails this morning and then they're going swimming this afternoon."

"Well, that sounds fun!"

"Yeah, you wanna come?"

"Alexis, we talked about this, Kate's here for vacation. I'm sorry," he offers but she waves him off.

"Thank you for asking but I think I want to walk the trails alone this morning." The girl starts to deflate. "But what about if I join you for swimming later?" That perks her up, her head bobbing excitedly.

"You ready, Alexis?" A middle aged, blonde woman asks as she approaches them.

"Yep!

"Judy, meet Kate Beckett," Rick introduces. "Kate is part of Alexis's Secret Service detail but is here for some well-deserved R&R. Judy's husband Don is an Iowa senator."

"Alexis tells me you're taking the kids on a nature walk this morning." Kate offers, finding it easy to smile at the woman's kind face.

"Yeah, you can take the school teacher out of the school…" Judy replies on a laugh.

"And then swimming later?"

"That's the plan."

"Would it be alright if I joined in for that part?"

"Oh, that'd be wonderful!" the woman enthuses. "We're planning to go to the pool at Aspen Lodge a little after lunch, so probably about one o'clock?"

"Sounds great."

"Thanks so much!"

Alexis hugs her father and runs around the end of the table to join Judy, or so Kate assumes. At the last moment, the girl changes trajectory and throws her arms around Kate, the embrace so fast she doesn't even have time to get her arms up.

"Bye Daddy! Bye Kate!" She waves at them as she takes Judy's hand and exits the lodge but Kate is still a little stunned by the fact that she gets hugs good bye now.

Rick is smiling as she regains her bearings, smirking almost, as if he's rubbing in how upending his daughter's love can be.

"So, trails today, huh?" He says it light, but there's more than just the query laced through the question.

"Unless you had a suggestion?" She raises an eyebrow at him in challenge, lets him know that she can hear that he's hedging around something and should just come out and say it.

"I was going to get some skeet shooting in this morning, and I wondered if you wanted to join me?" He's bashful as he poses the question, his body language that of a teenage boy that just asked out his crush.

Wait? Did he kinda just ask her on a date?

"Sure."

She gets that eye-crinkling smile in return.

* * *

It's possible that she didn't think this through.

He catches her hesitance as she takes in the semi-circle of shooting stations. "Have you done this before?"

"No, actually. I thought it was like a shooting range but with moving targets. I didn't realize it was so…complicated."

"It's not so bad. You're not far off; it basically is a shooting range with moving targets. So, we'll start here at position one," he points to a station at the top left corner, "the pigeons will come out of the high house," he motions to the structure on the left that she's already learned holds the traps that launch the targets, "then the low house," his arm sweeps to a similar but shorter structure on the right, "and then both at once but try to shoot the one from the high house first."

She can only imagine how confused she looks as he doubles over in laughter when he turns to her. She morphs her face into a glare but it barely fazes him, just sobers him enough that he ushers her to the first shooting position with his hand casually at the small of her back. He drops his hand when they reach the station and her eyes close briefly at the grief the loss of his touch brings.

He explains it again, pointing out the houses and the likely trajectory of the targets, indicates that the stake in the middle of the shooting field is generally the best place to plan to take out the clay pigeons and it clicks for her, seems much less intimidating than she initially thought.

"It's a solo sport, right?"

"Usually," he answers with a shrug. "We could play against each other. Are you a betting woman, Kate?"

Not usually, but the twinkle in his blue eyes makes her want to be. Wager that if he wins, she spends the night in his bed and she wins, he spends the night in hers. Win/win for everyone. She shakes her head to clear her mind of those images and he takes the move as an answer to his question.

"Well, it's a little unconventional, but we can partner, take turns on the shots?"

She usually shies away from partnering, even finds the word distasteful after the disaster that her first partnership in the NYPD brought her. But his offer is so genuine, the look on his face devoid of pressure and completely non-threatening and she finds herself softening to the idea.

"Sure, partners," she answers on a wide smile.

* * *

They almost dance around each other as they switch off, gentle touches to shoulders and arms directing their movements when it's difficult to hear around the ear plugs. She's cautious with her touches, aware of the staff running the range, her fellow agents quietly standing sentinel, but loving the thrill of his fingertips grazing her forearm to gain her attention.

He's good at this, better than her but she's keeping up, gets better with each shot she takes. It's nothing like the weapons training she's had; the strategy of the game much different when your target is so small.

They're pretty well matched until the final double target shot at station 7. Kate's glad it's his, the few she's had did not go well when she was trying to track two targets moving in opposite directions.

He sets up, tracking a few different trajectories with the barrel of the shotgun before settling back and calling, "Pull." The clay pigeons loose from the houses and Kate holds her breath. He seems to be holding too long, he'll never get both birds now, but then the gun roars and she watches as both targets explode from the same shot. She rips her sunglasses from her face, the ear plugs from her hears, her jaw dropping as she tries to figure out if she really just saw what she thought she did.

She turns to him as he's casually removing the empty shells from his shotgun. He raises his eyes to her and freezes when he catches the look of astonishment on her face. "What?"

"I guess it's a good thing I didn't take you up on the wager if you've been holding that ace in your sleeve the whole time."

He smiles, shy but proud at the same time. "Wasn't sure I could pull it off actually. I won a few competitions in college but I haven't kept up as much as I've wanted to in the last decade. Besides, it doesn't count; the objective on this double is to shoot the one out of the low house first and I hit the one from the high house into the other."

"Still," she insists. "That was well done."

His smile widens at her praise and she has to wonder how often he's genuinely complimented. He's so often lambasted for his choices and decisions, the media cycle on a twenty-four hour loop of dissecting his every thought. It has to be exhausting. It makes her want to tell him about all the things he does well. Praise him for his wonderful daughter, laud his book collection, commend his culinary skills, punctuate her appreciation for all things him with the press of her body, the trail of her lips over his skin.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but you have an urgent call waiting for you." Agent Day's voice cuts through her thoughts and she realizes how close to Rick she's drifted, how close she was to following through with those thoughts.

Rick chuckles, mutters "Of course," under his breath before addressing the agent. "Thank you, please let them know I'll be right there."

Agent Day nods his head at both of them, gives them an almost apologetic twist of his lips before he moves off. As if he knows what he interrupted.

But what did he interrupt, really? It's not as if she was going to kiss the man in broad daylight.

Oh god, she wasn't about to kiss him in broad daylight, was she?

He clears his throat. "So, there's technically one more station…"

"Yeah, but we both know you're never gonna top that shot so we should just call it quits, don't you think? Besides, the world needs you," she teases, pressing the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

His eyes shoot down to her mouth at the move, his tongue coming out to wet his lips for a moment. He settles his gaze just over her shoulder. "I'm sure it's an overreaction to something. Sometimes my job feels more like babysitting than leading." She laughs, little more than an amused huff of air from her nose but it brings his eyes back to hers, a soft smile adorning his face. "Thank you for doing this with me this morning."

"Of course. I had a great time." She feels suddenly shy, this farewell too reminiscent of the end of a first date and that's really what this was, wasn't it?

It's awkward for a moment and then he shifts, takes a step back from the close proximity that both had seemed loathe to change. "You need a ride back?" He hooks a thumb towards the golf cart waiting for him.

"I'd rather walk." It's part not trusting herself to be able to sit next to him and not brush her fingers over his thigh and part brutal honesty, she really needs to walk out this pent up energy that being with him all morning has built up in her system.

"See you at dinner?"

"Of course." He sounds so hopeful, there's no way she could give him any other answer.

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you to Lou for forcing me to inflict you all with feels._

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	7. Chapter 7

It apparently wasn't an overreaction to something if the fact that Kate doesn't see him again until dinner on Sunday night is any indication. At breakfast Alexis tells her that he still wasn't home when she went to bed and that she only saw him for a minute that morning.

"He looked tired," the girl informs her with a frown.

Kate feels bad for him; there really is no such thing as a vacation for the President.

She spends the morning exploring the trails the way she didn't get a chance to the day before and ends up at the horse stables. She turns down the offer for a ride but does brush one of them out, a bay colored stallion named Super that stands perfectly still while she performs the task. He butts his muzzle against her arm when she's completed and she takes it as a thank you.

She grabs some lunch from Laurel Lodge and takes it back to her cabin, eats it on the back deck and then settles into the book she brought with her, grateful for the chance to do something so mundane, so familiar. She loses track of time as she absorbs the words and only comes back to herself when her leg starts to tingle from falling asleep. Raising her arms high over to head, she stretches to pull out the tension in her spine. Dinner will be soon and she doesn't want to miss the festivities planned for tonight. Kate and some of the other guests are staying until Tuesday (Rick and Alexis included) but most of the people on site are heading home tomorrow so they're having a big party, dinner followed by a movie in the theatre at Hickory Lodge.

But she's going to be late if she doesn't get moving.

* * *

She arrives about five minutes before dinner is going to be served, late by her standards. Her eyes roam the tables, noting the lack of remaining seats. There's one over by the Bracken's but she's not sure she can stomach a whole dinner of the Senator flashing his fake smile and making sure he has her vote in November. There's an open chair near Don and Judy and that's an appealing option; she liked the teacher, had a good conversation with her while the kids were swimming on Saturday afternoon. She starts that way when she hears her name, Alexis's excited lilt carrying to her ears. The girl is waving her arms in the same manner she had to get her attention at breakfast yesterday morning and Kate laughs, shaking her head at the girl's antics.

She swings by Judy on her way, requests, "Don't give away that chair."

"I don't think I have to."

Kate shoots her a confused look but will ask her about that in a minute. She knows that she should at least say hello to Alexis. And Rick.

"I saved you a seat!" Alexis exclaims as Kate draws near. "I told everyone they can't sit here because this is just for Kate!" She beams up at her and Kate has the urge to drop a kiss to her forehead, ruffle her hair. It's just so adorable the way she's so proud of herself.

Ah, so _that's_ what Judy meant. Everyone knew this seat was for her.

Wait, everyone knew this seat was for her. And what did that make them think? Rick's been saying all along that Kate is Alexis's guest but people have to have seen her and Rick together. At breakfast, at the skeet range, flirting with each other over the grill on Friday night. It makes her instantly self-conscious, intensely worried about what conclusions people are drawing.

She sits gingerly, takes longer than necessary smoothing her skirt over her knees before turning to her dinner companions. "Thank you, Alexis." The girl seems oblivious to the stiff nature of her speech, just smiles again before picking up her napkin and spreading it over her lap. She chances a look up at Rick and finds him looking at her adoringly, his eyes crinkled again in that smile she only seems to see when he looks at her. He can't do that. He can't be doing that here where all of these people can see. Can't be doing that when the photographer is here to capture the President in casual moments.

"Hi." His voice is rich and warm and she wants to close her eyes as it washes over but she resists.

"Hi." Her voice is flat, her smile tightlipped and brief. She diverts her attention to the salad that's placed in front of her but she doesn't miss his crestfallen look.

They have to tone this down. Until they can talk about it, they just have to.

* * *

Dinner is lovely, grilled chicken and vegetables, a seemingly simple dish that is done with loads of flavor. Desert is a raspberry sorbet made at the Camp and when the bright berry flavor bursts over Kate's tongue, she has to clamp her lips shut to keep from moaning in delight. Coffees are passed around and Kate requests the vanilla syrup that she's been using in the morning, the server happy to comply as she shares that it's also her favorite.

Everyone is invited over to Hickory Lodge for the movie, a fleet of golf carts out front to escort them. Kate would usually walk but Alexis drags her over to one and indicates that they should sit on the back bench, squealing when Rick tries to climb in the front.

"No, Daddy! This is the girl cart! Boys can't ride on it." She's very serious as she informs of this, pointing to the young woman behind the wheel and Kate has to stifle her laughter behind a hand.

"Fine, I don't want to be on your stinky girl cart anyway," he retorts. Kate can no longer contain how funny this exchange is and bursts into giggles. Rick breaks out in a smile aimed directly at her, obviously pleased to have brought this out of her.

She straightens up, schools her face and tries not to encourage him. "You heard the lady," she calls to the driver. "Girl cart only, let's go!"

"Yeah!" Alexis yells, starting up the chant of "Girls rule, boys drool!" as they take off. In a bout of childishness, Kate joins her chant and they're in breathless giggles by the time they arrive.

They enter Hickory hand in hand and Alexis directs her to the theater. Kate finds it cozy, more like a multi-tiered living room with the sofas and oversized bean bags laying about. They pick out a deep, comfortable looking sofa and Alexis launches herself at an end cushion.

"Hey, scoot over," Kate admonishes.

"You can sit in the middle."

"I think your dad would rather sit next to you, kid."

The girl shrugs. "He likes you too, you know."

Kate's heart stutters in her chest at the nonchalant way she says it. She can't really mean it the way that Kate's interpreting it, can she? She's bright but she's just a kid, surely the intricacies of adult relationships are not something that she understands this well.

Then again, she's perfectly cognizant of her mother's selfishness.

"Alexis, please move." She says it soft but firm, aware of the people filling the theatre now and trying not to get into an argument with the girl.

For a long moment, Alexis looks at her with a defiance that Kate wasn't sure she possessed. So Kate switches her tactic, lets the fear and uneasiness she feels about being scrutinized by all these people show, allows some desperation to wash over her face. There's a beat and then Alexis sighs and moves to the center cushion, Kate sagging into the spot she vacated.

"He does though," Kate hears her mutter, some of that defiance bleeding into her words.

"Alexis." She tries to use the kid's name as a warning but it loses some of its bite when a whine sneaks into the last syllable. Kate reaches out and takes the girl's small hand in hers, waits until Alexis turns cold, blue eyes on her. "Not here, okay?"

The girl sags, the fight releasing from her. "Okay," she nods, a small hopeful smile on her face and Kate swallows, tries desperately to smile reassuringly in return.

It's a challenge though because this has just made the whole thing worse. Now she has the pressure of possibly letting both of them down. Of not being what they need. Of not being what they want.

* * *

Watching a kid's movie with kids is a completely new experience for Kate. She's seen The Parent Trap before, was impressed at how they managed to make Lindsey Lohan actually seem like two different actresses but she never realized how funny it was. The kids in the room laugh at all the right parts and their amusement makes her chuckle right along with them.

Afterwards, the kids are escorted to bed by the Camp staff while the adults make their way up to the bar for some social time. Kate initially dreads it, doesn't want a repeat of Friday night's awkward small talk but it seems that everyone is ready to let loose and leave politics behind for a night. She gets in a friendly argument about the merits of Russian literature with Judy's husband Don and Judy herself updates Kate on everything that's happening on Temptation Lane, Kate's favorite trashy soap opera. A deck of cards are brought out and a heated game of poker starts. She thinks it best to stay out of that, let the men's egos remain intact for the night but Sara, the Ohio senator's wife, doesn't feel the same and Kate watches from a barstool as she destroys all of them.

Everything breaks up after that, the men grumbling about the injustice of losing to a woman as their wives pat their backs sympathetically and laugh when they're not looking. Kate says her good byes, embracing and hand shaking and then settles in one of the booths along the wall, watching everyone file out. She was just going to sit down for a moment, clear her head of the wine she's been consuming before trying to make it back to her cabin but she's really comfortable here and before she knows it, she and Rick are the only ones remaining. And now it looks like she was waiting for him when that's not what she was doing at all and that fear of what this all looks like washes over her again.

He smiles at her, wide and easy, when he sees her slumped in the booth. He reaches over the bar to grab another beer, pops the cap, and heads over to her. Instead of sliding across from her, he snags a chair from the poker table and sets it the end of the table, uses the other bench as a foot rest. It puts him closer to her, makes his eyes unavoidable, the strip of his chest that's visible between the open top buttons of his shirt extremely tempting. She sits a little straighter, takes another sip of her wine to wet her suddenly dry throat.

"So," he starts and for a heart stopping second she thinks he's going to bring it up. That he's going to start this conversation now when she's tipsy on wine and barely able to get her thoughts in a straight line. "Are you having a good time this weekend?"

She breathes out a sigh of relief that he raises an eyebrow at him but she answers before he can say anything further. "Yeah, it's been great. I'll have to thank _Alexis_ for the invitation." She's not sure what comes over her, why she starts the teasing but the blush that creeps up his neck is worth it.

"Yeah, uh, I might have suggested it to her," he confesses, scratching at the back of his neck.

"It was a good suggestion, thank you," she says softly, smiling at his honesty. The air is heavy for a moment and then she clears her throat, desperate for a topic change. "So skeet shooting in college, huh?"

It works and he launches into the story of how he actually got into it in boarding school as a teenager and that segues into sharing stories from all phases of their lives. She tells him about her "Rebel Becks" phase and he admits that he wrote a novel while in college but never thought he could make a living at writing. She tells him about her semester in Kiev and he talks about the wonder of becoming a father.

"I do have one regret," she admits, a soft chuckle falling from her lips as he leans forward in interest. "I wish I could have actually become a detective. Not that I regret my decision to come here," she's quick to interject, "but I just think that helping families get some closure would have been rewarding."

He hums understanding and takes a swallow of his beer, the work of his throat invoking a tightening in her chest.

"What about you, any regrets?" she asks.

He sighs wistfully, a faraway look on his face. "One. I had a girlfriend in college, Kyra. I should have followed her when she went to London. But I knew that it would set back my career. And I don't think she wanted me to come. But sometimes I wonder if I'm wrong about that part." He shakes his head free of the melancholy and turns to her.

She arches an eyebrow at him. "Your regret is a woman?"

"Yes!" He bristles, defensive. "Why shouldn't it be? Everyone knows how terrible my relationship with my wife was, why can't I regret the one that got away that could have been amazing?"

"No, no, no," she placates, holding out a hand. "I'm just surprised. I thought it would have something to do with a campaign decision. I didn't expect your answer to be so…human."

His eyes drop away and he swipes his beer off the table to take a swig, pointedly avoids looking at her. It occurs to her that she's hit a button but she's not sure what it is.

"I am human," he mutters quietly. "I'm more than this office. I thought you've seen past that. But I'm just 'Mr. President.' At best, I'm Alexis's dad." He flicks his eyes to her and the disappointment swirling in his irises wipes her mind of any retort that was forming.

"I thought we could at least be _friends_." The last word comes out on a sneer, making it obvious that he believes they're so clearly beyond that point. "It's impossible to make friends in DC, exponentially so when you're the President and everyone puts you on a fucking pedestal. When you came into our lives, you were a breath of fresh air. You made my daughter smile again, a real smile, not that false front that she's been putting on for me for years so she thought I wouldn't worry about her. You talk to me like I'm real, you call me out on my bullshit in a way so few people have the courage to and I let myself believe you were different. But when it comes down to it, I'm just Mr. President and you're no different than any of them." He laughs, a breathless, mirthless thing. "And it's a goddamn shame. I could use a friend. And I suspect you could, too."

She's speechless. He's right, she could use a friend and she wanted – wants- the possibility to explore something more. But he's also right that she's been using his job as a barrier between them, has used it as an excuse to not see him as approachable and real. Used it to justify her fear that she could be the reason this would fall apart.

Right now though, she's having no problem seeing him at all, the raw guts of him blatantly on display. His wounds and pain are her fault, her problem to fix. She moves to speak, an apology on the tip of her tongue when he pushes away from the table, the scrape of the chair on the floor impossibly loud.

"I'm going to bed." He moves swiftly for the door.

"Rick."

He freezes, the hand at his side flexing and then squeezing into a fist. She holds her breath, waits for him to turn. But then he's back in motion and out the door, slamming it behind him with a thundering crack.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to the empty room.

* * *

 _A/N: Eternal thanks to Lou._

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	8. Chapter 8

Kate sleeps fitfully when she manages to fall asleep at all. She made so many mistakes last night, mostly born of her own fear. In being terribly afraid that she would be the reason it wouldn't work out, she didn't even try. And in holding back, she's hurt him deeply, made him believe that the feelings were one sided, that she doesn't feel the same.

She needs to change this, she needs to explain herself if there's any hope of salvaging what could be something great.

She dresses quickly but with care, selects a flowing emerald green top that she knows accentuates her eyes, pairs it with shorts that show off her legs and buckles gold sandals around her ankles. While she would rather have the confidence boost of heels, what she needs to do today will require vulnerability and putting her at a height disadvantage will facilitate that nicely. She smudges on some eyeliner and a healthy sweep of mascara and heads out to get some coffee.

She hopes to run into him at breakfast, knows she can use Alexis as leverage to get a word with him, and wants to see if there's somewhere they can go to talk. She pushes down the fear that bubbles up when she thinks about what people will see, what people will talk about when they see them together but she has to get used to that if she really wants to dive into this with him.

And, oh, she does. She never wants to see the hurt and disappointment that she saw in his eyes last night. She never wants to be the one to cause him that kind of pain again.

She fixes her coffee, plucks a bowl of fruit from the table and seeks out the red head and her father. But they're nowhere to be seen. No worry, she was up early and he was up late; besides, this is earlier than she saw them on Saturday and she saw Alexis yesterday. She can wait.

She grabs a section of the newspaper littered across a table and settles in a chair that gives her a good viewpoint of the entry to the dining room. But by the time she's made it all the way through the sports scores, her coffee is drained and they're still no-shows.

Fine, time for Plan B. She walks down to Aspen Lodge, opts to try for the back door instead of going all the way around to the front. As she makes her way across the flagstone patio to the sliding glass doors of the sunroom, she can see movement inside but as she nears and the glare recedes, she's able to make out a cleaning crew, three women dusting and vacuuming and polishing every surface of the home. She doesn't get a chance to knock as the woman running the vacuum spots her approach, shutting off the machine to come greet her.

"Can I help you?"

"Sorry to interrupt, are they home? Rick, um, and Alexis, are they here?"

The woman gives her a sympathetic look as she stumbles through the question. "I'm afraid not. We got orders to come clean up since President Castle was called back to D.C. early this morning. He usually only leaves like that if there's an emergency."

"Oh." Emergency. Yeah, fucking right. An emergency known as Kate Beckett's relationship ineptitude. "Thank you." She forces a smile at the woman and turns to leave, has to make herself take measured, normal steps as the urge to run away takes over her.

Run away from her failure, from her walled off heart that keeps her from the things that she really wants, run away from how embarrassed she is that she chased the man away from his vacation. From his daughter's end of summer vacation.

When she's back inside her cabin, she locates her running clothes, glad that she thought to bring them. She slips the green top off regretfully, mentally kicking herself for bringing something that she thought he'd like to see her in. She pulls on the sports bra and shorts, laces up her shoes and pulls out her iPod to cue up a playlist of music that she tends to listen to when she's angry. Because she is, so very angry with herself.

There's a wide, paved loop around the camp with paths that branch off to the cabins and she takes a left on the main road right in front of Maple putting Aspen Lodge to her back as she works her way up to a comfortable pace. She lets it go as she runs, lets the pound of her feet crack the foundation of her disappointment, wipes away the embarrassment that gathers in the sweat on her brow. It's a cleansing run and after she's finished a few laps she slows down front of her cabin, pacing back and forth to cool down and take stock. It's still there, the putrid guilt that hasn't left her since he slammed the door behind him, but it's not stifling any longer and it's something she can move forward from.

It's time to move on. She'll apologize if she can, look for an opportunity to do so but she has to take this hit, she has to accept that she's the reason that she'll never know if they would have worked out. Besides, there's no time to wallow in her failures. Not when her father is getting out of rehab in a few weeks.

* * *

"You're going back to school?" This isn't what she expected when she visited her dad the following weekend.

"I've been accepted into a counseling program, yes." Jim is proud of himself, his lips curving up in a smile Kate's not sure she's ever seen on him.

"Dad, this is so exciting!" She pulls him into an effusive hug, her joy too great to be put into words. "When do you start?" she asks as she steps back.

"As soon as I'm out. I have placement in a, well, it's not quite a halfway home but it is for people trying to get back on their feet after rehab. Most of the people that stay there are trying to finish degrees and I'm welcome to stay as long as I'm enrolled. As long as I don't cause any trouble." He adds the last on a wink and Kate laughs softly with him.

"You're not going far, are you?" She feels like a child as she asks, suddenly so worried that she's going to lose her daddy when he's all that she has around here right now.

"Oh no, just Baltimore. It'll be even closer than here. Dr. Maxwell helped me find the program and the scholarship that's making it possible and he even wrote a letter of recommendation to get me the place to stay."

"Well, remind me to send him a huge fruit basket."

"He's partial to dark chocolate, actually."

"Noted."

They smile at each other, silently celebrating his accomplishment for a moment.

"Are you going to need a ride?"

"I'd love that, Katie, thank you."

* * *

She's grateful for the distraction her dad's new situation brings her. She barely has time to think about going back to her daily detail while she's hauling boxes and helping him settle into his new room. She takes a tour of the college with him, finds it a quiet environment that suits him well.

The fact that there's a role reversal here with him being the student and her accompanying isn't lost on them; they share several laughs throughout the day. Their lives may not have gone the direction that either of them thought but they're making it work.

She drops him back off at the home in the early evening, hugging him fiercely on the sidewalk out front.

"Call me to let me know how your first day goes?"

He chuckles. "I will. If you let me know how Alexis's first day of school is."

She narrows her eyes at him; of course he's figured out what her assignment is and she can't say she's surprised with how much she's talked about the girl but she still can't confirm anything to him. "We'll talk Monday."

"Love you, Katie."

"Love you too, Dad."

* * *

She uses Sunday to clean her house, finally gets her laundry from vacation done, wipes off the surfaces that have collected dust while she was away and then spending time with her dad the last few weekends. It feels good to scrub her counters, vacuum the carpets, spread warm sheets over the bed.

She wants to start back fresh and it works, she falls back into the routine easily, continues walking Alexis inside every day like they did last year.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say good bye to you at Camp David," Kate has the courage to say on Tuesday afternoon as they're entering the Residence.

"That's okay," Alexis replies on a shrug. "Daddy carried me out to the car; it was so early that I was still asleep. You had fun, right?"

"I did, yes." It's true, up until she caused the girl's father to walk away from her, she was having a fantastic weekend.

"Good! Me too."

"You're glad to be back in school though, aren't you?" Kate grins at her, already knows her answer.

"Yeah," the girl admits sheepishly.

"Knew it," she mutters, Alexis fixing her with an approximation of a glare, the dig of the elevator distracting her. "'Kay, final stop. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

* * *

She approaches Thursday with dread, wonders how she'll be received. She knows he won't be rude to her but will he be falsely nice, over the top effervesce at her arrival or will she get clipped answers and a swift good bye?

Ellen bids them a warm hello, even gets up to give Kate a hug, ask how her summer was. She only keeps them a minute, shooing them inside the office, and it's obvious that she has no idea how much Kate would rather just watch Alexis enter and leave than do this right now. She knocks like usual, not waiting for a reply before pushing the door open. The desk is empty and as the door swings open, there's a young woman sitting on one of the sofas, the sole occupant of the room.

"Hey Alexis," she greets. "Your dad got called away for something real quick but he said he wouldn't be long and asked me to stay with you until he gets back."

"I can do that," Kate offers. She doesn't even know this woman's name, there's no way she's leaving Alexis with her. This could be the start of a kidnapping plot for all she knows.

"I don't mind," she answers with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, you are?" Kate is not kind when she asks it, steel reinforcing the words, making it clear that non-compliance is not an option.

"You're right, how rude of me." The woman stands and approaches them, Kate shifting in front of Alexis to shield her. "I'm Denise," she holds out a hand for Kate to shake and she does so warily. "I'm one of the President's aides."

"It's okay, Agent Kate, I know her," Alexis pipes up from behind her.

"That's not the point here. I don't know you," she directs at Denise, "and I'm here to keep Alexis safe so there's no way that I'm entrusting her with someone whose file I've never read."

"I understand that, it will only be a few minutes." The woman is unflappable and that's probably a good trait to have in the hectic West Wing but her nonchalance about Alexis's safety is unacceptable.

Kate folds her arms over her chest. "I could give you two dozen scenarios of what could happen in just a few minutes. I'll wait with her."

"That's really not what he requested." Finally Denise's armor starts to slip, her words carrying some hesitance.

"Last time I checked, I was requested to guard her and I'll be damned if some aide is going to tell me otherwise. If you want to wait with us, you can. But I'm not leaving."

"I understand that this is unorthodox but honestly, we were literally going to sit on the-"

"Is my favorite daughter here yet?" Rick's voice booms as he enters through the door on the West side of the office causing Alexis to giggle and run towards him. He spots Kate as he pushes the door closed behind him, and he's so focused on her that Alexis collides with him more than hugs him. He shifts his focus down to his daughter and sweeps her off the ground, propping her against his hip like a much younger child but Alexis beams and winds her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, Denise," he dismisses the aide and she nods as she takes her leave. "You didn't have to stay, Kate, Denise would have handled it."

"It's not her job to worry about Alexis's well-being, it's mine." Why is she the only one that seems to realize this?

"Well, I'm here now, so…"

She hears the dismissal in his tone but there's a part of her that doesn't want to let him order her around like that, part of her that wants to push back, part of her that wants to challenge him, ask why she's still allowed to be on Alexis's detail if he doesn't trust her to stay with her for five minutes. Because she knows it doesn't have anything to do with trust. Here she was, so worried about how he was going to talk to her that she never even considered that he would make an attempt to completely avoid her.

She stuffs it all down, knows that doing this in front of his kid isn't at all how she wants to have this conversation, so, even though it's petty, she settles for an eye roll and a disgusted sigh before turning on her heel and exiting the room.

It's clear now that she'll never have a chance to explain herself. He's certainly not going to allow it.

* * *

Alexis is quiet on the way home from school the next day, blankly staring out of the window during the drive.

Kate gently pokes her in the ribs. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," she answers distractedly, barely flicking her attention to the agent.

"You sure?"

Alexis sighs, the sound impossibly heavy for an eight year old and she turns anguished eyes to Kate. "Can I talk to you?"

"You can always talk to me, Alexis." Kate takes one of her small hands and envelops it in both of hers.

"Okay, but," she cuts her eyes to Agent Harris in the front seat, lowers her voice to a whisper, "later."

"Okay," Kate agrees as the girl takes her hand back.

They're barely inside the Residence when Kate asks, "So, what's up, kid?" She's willing to admit that she's scaring her, Alexis has never done this before.

"Okay, um, when Daddy was putting me in the car at Camp David I heard him tell someone to tell everyone that he had to leave on an emergency but when we got back, he didn't go to work. He mostly pouted in his room all day. He told me he was tired."

Kate's chest is so tight she can barely breathe. The girl has no idea that she's confirming Kate's exact fear about what happened that weekend. She crouches down to Alexis's level and forces a breath in. "Well, it was a long weekend, maybe he was just tired." It sounds weak even to her ears.

"I feel like he was lying to me. And then yesterday, he was mean to you and he's never done that before. Did something happen?"

Oh God, there was absolutely nothing in her training to prepare her for anything like this. Kate has no idea what to do. She does not in any way want to lie to her but she also does not want to confess her sins to a child.

Curse this kid's observational skills.

"It's just," Alexis stops herself, suddenly seeming embarrassed.

"What, Alexis?" Kate murmurs encouragingly.

"He likes you." She flushes with the admission, completely avoiding Kate's gaze.

"What makes you say that?"

"He's never been like this with anyone. Never been excited to see them, never asks me to help him pick out clothes. I always help him with his shirt and tie on Thursdays and yesterday he didn't ask. I thought he liked you."

Alexis is on the verge of tears and she's going to take Kate right over the edge with her if they start rolling down her face. She thought he liked her too. Then she kept her cards too close to the vest and he got the wrong idea.

"And, besides, um, I like you. Don't you like us, too?"

Kate engulfs Alexis in a hug, holding her tight and running a hand through her soft hair. "Alexis, I _love_ you," and, oh, that feels so good to finally say. She pulls back, wipes the tears that have escaped down the girl's cheeks. "But the thing with your dad, it's…complicated."

"But do you like him?"

Kate manages a nod.

"Does he know?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think he does, no."

"Then you have to tell him!"

"You saw what happened yesterday, he won't even talk to me."

"I'll take a letter to him, he won't turn down anything from me." The girl beams, pleased with herself for the idea.

Kate has to admit that it's an appealing option. She's not entirely sure how she feels about using Alexis as the go-between but she did offer, it's not like Kate has to twist her arm.

"I'll think about it, Alexis."

The girl frowns, obviously not pleased with that answer but willing to accept it for now.

Kate thinks they're through, moves to get up but Alexis fists a hand in her sleeve to stop her. The girl hesitates a second and then hugs her, her thin arms strong around Kate's neck. "I love you, too, Kate."

Kate holds her tight for a long while.

* * *

Kate does think about it. A lot. She tries to draft a letter multiple times that weekend, her trashcan quickly filling up with crumpled up balls of yellow paper. She writes drafts that include everything, every detail of what she feels but that feels like too much to dump on him. She writes one that just says "I'm sorry" but she needs to explain herself better than that.

Finally on Sunday afternoon, she settles on one that hits the points she wants to. It's not long, it's not flowery but that's not her style. It says everything she hasn't managed to say out loud.

But she leaves it home on Monday. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. Alexis, to her credit, doesn't ask her about it.

She's not sure what comes over her but on Thursday morning, she swipes the letter off the table by her front door as she's leaving, tucking it safely in her blazer pocket. It crinkles throughout Alexis's school day, reminding her that it's there, waiting.

Kate pulls her aside that afternoon on their way to the Oval, crouches down to Alexis's level in the back of a vestibule. The girl looks at her quizzically but she silently reaches into her pocket to pull the small envelope with a simple "R" on the outside. Alexis bounces on her toes, her eyes shining with excitement.

"It's just a letter, it might not change anything," Kate warns her as she passes it over.

It clearly takes an effort but the kid calms down, standing flat on her feet again and tucking the envelope reverently into her book bag.

"But it might." She's so hopeful and Kate tries to let some of that hope wash over her, too.

* * *

Rick holds his breath as the door opens but only his daughter and her bright smile enter his office. He smiles in return, relief dropping his shoulders. What he did last week was cowardly and it blew up in his face so this week he figured it was best to face the music. He could see Kate for a few minutes, could survive being in her presence for the time it took to have his daughter handed off. Spending time with Alexis was worth any lingering disappointment he had regarding Kate Beckett.

And she was right last week, she is the one that's supposed to watching Alexis and he should have known that she wouldn't just leave his daughter with a perfect stranger. She's perfect for Alexis's Secret Service detail and the least he can do is respect her job.

Still, he's glad that he doesn't have to see her today. Glad that he won't have the sharp stab of want that pierced his belly when he saw her last week, glad that that feeling won't turn into sadness when disappointment washes over him again.

He and Alexis have been fine on their own. It was ridiculous of him to think that he could change that.

He rounds the desk to pick Alexis up in a bear hug, setting her back down on the carpet with a kiss to the crown of her head. "What do you wanna do today, Pumpkin?"

"Um, I dunno," she answers distractedly, opening her book bag and extracting a small, cream colored envelope.

"Did you get a note from school?"

"No, um, don't be mad at me, Daddy."

"What? Alexis, no, I won't. What's going on?"

"I have something for you." She stops, hesitates, her fingers rubbing on the edge of the envelope. "From Kate." She holds it out to him, the printed "R" on the front mocking him.

From Kate. This is a letter from Kate. Why would she write him a letter and send it via his daughter?

Alexis extends her arm. "Please Daddy, take it. Give her a chance."

He snatches it from her and turns his back, inspecting the envelope. He should have someone look it over, make sure there isn't some trick attached. But he knows, knows this is from Kate and his daughter is innocently trying to make sure that he gets it.

"Please don't be mad at me," she whispers, her voice clogged with tears.

He stuffs the envelope in his pocket and turns to pull Alexis into his arms. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just shocked."

"You think she doesn't like you but she does," she cries against his neck.

It makes his heart seize, his breath stutter to hear his daughter say that. He wishes it were true but he saw Kate hold him at arm's length, saw her revert to formalities when he got too close. She might be attracted to him but she certainly doesn't like him.

But why would she need to write him a letter to say that? Something else has to be going on here.

* * *

He manages to put the note out of his mind as he and Alexis while time away playing board games. The country doesn't implode so they get to have dinner together and he tucks her into bed afterward.

It isn't until he's in the safety of his own bed room that he allows himself to think about it again. He stares at the suit jacket that he tossed over the back of a chair earlier, his eyes fixed on the pocket that he knows holds the cream colored envelope.

His daughter insists that she likes him and she spends infinitely more time with the woman than he does. And his daughter is not a child that lies or exaggerates.

With the confidence of Alexis's words behind him, he strides to the jacket and extracts the note, turning and heading back to his bed to perch on the edge once again.

But now with the envelope in his hands, he finds he can't open it, his fingers frozen at the sealed flap. He releases a breath, laughing at himself. He's the freaking President of the United States and he's scared of a note from a girl?

He rips the envelope open and withdraws the single sheet of yellow notebook paper, unfolding it reverently. She didn't write much, her looping print only taking up about a third of the page. But as he reads, she says everything he wants to hear.

 _Rick,_

 _Because you are Rick to me, especially in my head when I think about you. And I do think about you. Often. I'm so sorry that I haven't been honest about that._

 _We can certainly be friends if you want but wouldn't you say that we already are? What I'm scared about, what holds me back, is the possibility for more. Because I don't want to ruin this friendship we have._

 _But by holding back, I already am._

 _I think you feel what's between us the s_ _ame as I do. And I'm so tired of fighting it. I'd like to see what it could be. What we could be. The last thing I want is to look back on my life and wonder, "if only."_

 _I hope you feel the same._

 _-Kate_

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks to Lou for rallying and betaing 3 chapters in a day. I'm getting there on the editing part._

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	9. Chapter 9

Kate yawns as she waits for Alexis the next morning. She didn't get much sleep with all the worrying that she was doing. Worried if Alexis even gave him the note. Worried if he accepted it. If he even read it if he did accept it. In one scenario, he lights the envelope on fire and tosses it in the fireplace to watch it burn without reading a word. If he's anything like her when holding a grudge, it's a distinct possibility.

She sighs for not the first time that morning, frustrated with herself for being so worried. Worrying won't change the outcome; she's done what she can and it's out of her hands now.

Alexis walks through the door calling out a sweet "Thank you!" to the guard that holds it open for her. She doesn't have the usual bounce in her step because she's carrying a paper coffee cup, both hands wrapped securely around the brown, cardboard sleeve. She beams at the agents as she makes her way to them.

"Good morning, Agent George!"

"Morning, Miss."

"This is for you, Agent Kate." She holds the cup aloft, grinning from ear to ear.

"Thank you." Kate takes the cup from her, touched by the girl's generosity. Maybe she knew that Kate wouldn't get any sleep. She opens the door for Alexis, closes it behind her and walks around the SUV, taking a sip of the coffee as she goes.

She stops dead for a moment as the flavor of the drink hits her tongue. She hasn't tasted this since her vacation last month. She hurries around the vehicle and takes her seat next to Alexis.

"Is this…? It tastes like…"

The girl shrugs. "I dunno. It's not from me." Her face breaks open in that wide grin again.

Not from her. Then that means-

She turns wide, disbelieving eyes to Alexis who only bobs her head excitedly in response.

She takes another sip of the coffee and its creamy, vanilla flavor takes like hope. The kind of hope that she hasn't had in a long time.

* * *

She finishes the coffee by the time they get to the school and slips the sleeve from the cup, dropping the cup into the trashcan by the door but holding on to the sleeve until she can make a stop at the recycling bins. Alexis lectured her the first time she watched the agent drop the whole thing in the trash, rattling off litter statistics and a memorized bullet point list of why recycling matters. Kate's made a point of placing the cardboard sleeve in the blue bins ever since.

They drop the girl off at her classroom and head for the lounge. Kate holds the sleeve up to Harris, pointing down the hall to indicate that she's going to the cafeteria to dispose of it.

But as she extends her arm to drop it in, something on the inside catches her eye. She pulls the sleeve apart at its seam to find writing, a simple message scrawled in marker.

 _K- I feel it too. Stay for dinner tonight? R._

She wants to sag to the floor and sob with relief. She settles for taking a deep breath to compose herself and tucks the sleeve in her pocket instead.

He got it. He read it. He wants her to stay for dinner. She can't contain the grin that spills over her face.

* * *

He's distracted all day, worried if she even noticed the note, let alone what she might be thinking about it. Was it too presumptuous to ask her to dinner so soon? And to ask her to stay for family dinner at that? He knows she loves Alexis but they can't exactly talk with his kid right there and what if that makes that whole thing awkward?

He zones off during meetings and briefings and while no one calls him out on it, he can see his staff getting increasingly frustrated at having to repeat themselves all day. When his Chief of Staff suggests that he's not feeling well and should maybe head home, he jumps at the chance.

Well, he tries to not literally jump up and run out the door, but rather uses the convenient excuse to make an escape for the day. It's early enough that he could make dinner, an extremely rare occurrence in his world, but something he would really like to do tonight.

Assuming she's stayed.

He takes the stairs, uses the work of his legs to burn off some his anxiety. He's quiet as he makes his way into the Center Hall, listening for any indication that Kate Beckett is in his home. He hears murmuring from the West Sitting Hall, the sound of the voice too low for him to determine if it's her or one of the house staff talking to Alexis.

"Is this okay?" his daughter's voice floats down the hall.

"No, you can't play that, we're on spades, see?" Kate's voice rings in his head and he's so relieved that he has to stop for a moment and place his hands to his knees, let the lightheadedness pass. She's actually here and as the realization settles in his gut, it bursts warmth and excitement through his blood.

He pushes forward, making no attempt to hide his entrance now and Alexis runs to greet him as he enters the room. He scoops her up against his chest, unashamed that it's so he can see Kate over his daughter's shoulder. She smiles but ducks her head, so shy but so beautiful. She's lost her jacket, he can see it draped over the back of the sofa, the sleeves of her button up rolled past her elbows and while the soft pink isn't a color he expected to see on her, it's gorgeous against the tone of her skin.

It looks like she belongs here.

"Kate's staying for dinner, Daddy!" Alexis informs him as he sets her back on the floor.

He grins, can't help the stretch of his lips at the news. He also doesn't miss the fact that the "Agent" title has been lost for the evening.

"How about I make dinner? What do you think about some spaghetti?"

"Oh! Yes!" The girl bounces on the balls of her feet at the news. "You haven't made spaghetti in sooooo long."

"That's what I was thinking. Why don't you guys keep playing cards and I'll get started?"

"Actually," Alexis fiddles with the hem of her shirt. "I still have homework that I haven't done." She says it like she's telling on herself, like she's going to be reprimanded for not having her weekend homework done by five on a Friday.

But actually, this works out perfectly. "Okay, why don't you put those cards away and go work on that and Kate can help me with dinner?" He flashes a smile at her, his heart skipping when she smiles right back, completely on board with his plan to have some time alone.

"Okay!" his daughter agrees willingly. Kate gathers up the playing cards spread over the coffee table and slides them back in the box, handing them to Alexis to put away.

As his daughter skips off down the hall, he heads into the small kitchen off the sitting room, so grateful to Jackie Kennedy's insistence that a family kitchen be installed in the Residence. Without the former First Lady's renovations, this evening wouldn't be possible. He rummages through the well-stocked pantry, finds pasta and cans of tomatoes, snags the olive oil and some spices off a shelf and sets it all on the counter next to the stove. Kate's leaning against the doorway, watching him with her arms crossed loosely under her breasts, a soft, amused smile on her face.

He leans a hip on the counter, mirroring her position. "Hey."

"Hey," she returns, that shy duck of her head hiding her eyes from him again.

He crosses over to her and reaches out, settles his fingers below her chin and raises her face to his. "You don't have to hold back anymore, Kate."

She releases a heavy breath and falls into him, her arms winding around his waist as she buries her face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, her breath washing over his clavicle. He wraps his arms around her back, splays his hands wide to hold her against him and presses his cheek to her hair, breathes in the scent of her shampoo, starts trying to learn the scent of her. They stay locked in each other's arms for a long while but he still laments the loss of her when she pulls back.

"I'm sorry," she starts but he holds up a hand to stop her.

"Let's just have dinner and we can talk about everything later."

She nods agreement, takes a deep inhale through her nose as if to collect herself. Her hair is in loose waves around her face and he tucks it back behind her ear, lets his fingers card through her locks. She traps her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches him and that is possibly the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

He leans into her and lets his lips brush hers, once, twice, before pressing them firmly against hers. He keeps it chaste, mouth closed but even so, the heat that builds between them is unmistakable and their breathing is ragged as they break apart.

"I thought we were gonna talk," she says breathlessly, still managing to add some teasing to her tone.

"We will. I just really wanted to do that."

She laughs softly at him and he wants to kiss her again, trap the sound between them.

 _After dinner, Rick._

They dance around each other to put the food together, light touches and meaningful looks between them as she hands him ingredients, bumps a hip against his to move in and stir the sauce. He barely budges, opting instead to loop an arm around her waist and prop his chin at her shoulder while she moves the tomatoes and sauce around the pan.

They're so good at this already, everything so natural between them. He had a glimpse of this when they went skeet shooting, the easy way they slipped into a partnership in a game that doesn't even use partners. But here in his home, doing something as simple as cooking dinner, it makes the whole thing that much more real and yet they still achieve it.

She sets the spoon on its rest and scoots her back against his front, his arms coming up to secure across her stomach and her hands rest over his. She drops her head back against his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to feather his lips over her neck, a soft sigh escaping her. He pauses there, his lips still to her skin and just breathes in the moment. He knows that they still need to talk, still need to figure out what went wrong so that it doesn't affect them down the line, but he could stay like this forever with her. She turns her head to press her forehead to his neck and he rests his cheek against her temple.

They make no move to break apart until the timer for the pasta goes off and then they spring into action; she puts the colander in the sink and he brings the pot over to drain the noodles, she's ready with the sauce when he brings the pan back to the stove, and she gently pours it over the spaghetti, stirring to mix it all together.

He sets the table while she gets the bread out of the oven and he goes to get Alexis while she puts all of the food on the table. They settle into family dinner, Alexis tells him about her day, Kate and Alexis talk about the book series that the girl picked up at the school library, Alexis gets Kate to tell Rick some of the silly jokes that she knows and Alexis laughs so hard that it's contagious, all of them in unstoppable giggles.

They clean up together, Alexis walking plates into the kitchen one by one, Kate holding containers steady while he pours in leftovers, and he fills the pot with water while she snaps on the lid and slides it in the fridge. Alexis yawns, the time far later than she's normally up.

"You want me to tuck you in?" he asks.

She nods, bleary eyed but heads right to Kate for a hug. His heart melts as the woman crouches down to the girl's level, enveloping her in her arms. They're in their own moment, something he's not a part of. Kate loves Alexis for who she is, not because she thinks that his daughter is the way to his heart.

He marvels again at how lucky he is to have met her, how astronomical the odds that their paths would have crossed and yet, here they are.

He follows Alexis out of the kitchen, stopping in front of Kate for a moment. "Make yourself comfortable." He motions towards the sofa. "I'll just be a minute." He hesitates, hates that he's so unsure all of a sudden.

Kate runs a hand down his arm, loosely takes his hand in hers and draws him into the sitting room. "I'll be here," she assures him, nudging him to join his daughter as she settles herself on a couch cushion.

He catches up with Alexis and his daughter takes his hand, the same one Kate had just been holding, still tingling from her touch.

"Told you she liked you."

* * *

This evening has been amazing. Magical. As Kate waits for him to return from tucking in Alexis, she indulges in the giddiness that's been welling up in her, lets a smile that hurts her cheeks take over her face, wriggles in excitement, allows the happiness to make its way down to her finger tips and toes, shakes it out so that she think straight.

Her note helped, opened the door for this night to happen. But she needs to let him know that she meant it, that he got it all wrong in Camp David but she knows why he came to the conclusion that he did. She's still in her own thoughts as he makes his way back in, his muted footsteps not registering in her ears until he enters the kitchen. She hears him gathering glasses, the pop of a wine cork not far behind and then he's reentering the room, offers her a glass of red and settles next to her on the sofa.

He raises his glass towards her and she lifts her up in wait. "To more nights like this."

She smiles, wide and unbidden, nodding her agreement as she taps her glass to his and takes a sip of the wine, humming appreciatively as the flavor bursts over her tongue. They lapse into silence and she fiddles with the stem of her glass, takes another sip of the wine to wet her dry throat.

"You got my note." Her voice is soft, her eyes cast down but she sees him smile in her peripheral vision and raises her face to his.

"You got mine."

"I almost didn't, I was about to drop it in the recycle bin when I noticed."

"I was counting on that. Alexis said that you always recycle them. The note on the inside was her idea, actually." He freezes as what he just said hits him. "Did…Is it possible that my daughter acted as match-maker for us?"

"She was the one that suggested she take a note to you. So, I'm going with 'yeah.'" They laugh softly. "She loves us." Kate shrugs. "She wants us to be happy."

"I want that, too." His eyes are soft and full of affection but then a cloud comes over them. "But I don't know how to do this."

"Be with a woman?" She's smirking at him and he narrows his eyes but there's no malice in either of their gestures.

"No. Well, I mean, it's been a while but I'm sure I remember how it goes." The last comes out low and gravelly and she shudders as she imagines him taking his time, learning her, touching every bit of her. He sees her reaction but doesn't acknowledge it other than a sweep of his eyes, eager but still restrained. He gives her a moment then clarifies, "I don't know how to be with someone while being the President."

Oh. Well. "I don't know how to be someone that's with the President."

He smiles; it's not much, a quirk of the corners of his lips. She thinks it's mean to be reassuring but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. "We can figure this out together." He pauses heavily. "But we need to talk to each other about things. We can't be in our own head all the time. Not like…"

He flounders, shifting to place both feet flat on the floor, his forearms resting on his thighs, hands clasped between his knees. Even though she thinks she knows where he's going with this, "Not like what?"

"Not like you were at Camp David. I thought I saw it in your eyes a dozen times. And then you'd shutter them off and call me 'Sir' and we were having that great conversation on Sunday night and then-" He cuts himself off, his breath stuttering, his posture rigid, eyes fixed on the floor between his feet.

She reaches out a tentative hand and lays it gently on his knee. He flinches slightly and she almost pulls back but she knows that he needs to be shown how much she wants to be in this. "I hurt you."

He releases a harsh breath and with it some tension seems to leave him. He places a hand over hers, turns his eyes to meet hers, and lets her see his anguish. "…Yeah."

She turns toward him, curls a leg under her on the cushion, flips her hand over under his, threading their fingers together and drawing their hands up to rest between her breasts. "I am so sorry. So, so sorry." The words aren't enough, don't convey what she wants to. She wants to let the movement of her body show him how sorry she is.

And isn't that the whole point of what they're doing right now? Talking about how they need to stop holding back now that they both know this is what they want? She surges forward, presses her forehead to his temple and breathes a sorry against his cheek. His eyes slip shut and his fingers tighten in hers but it's still not enough. She pushes up to her knees and swings a leg over his lap, shakes her fingers free of his so that she can slide a hand to cup the back of his skull, the palm of her other hand caressing his jaw. His eyes are now screwed shut, his breathing ragged as she sinks into his lap, but his arms come around her back, one hand snaking up to curl over her shoulder, pressing her even closer against him. She bites back a moan at the contact, the kiss of their hips making it obvious to her how much this display of her regret is affecting him.

"Rick," she implores, fingers rubbing against the soft skin behind his ear, her forehead coming to rest against his. He releases a stuttering breath against her lips and blinks his eyes open. She grips him tighter at the look in them, the deep, fathomless pools of his blue eyes drawing her in. She's thought before that she could happily drown in them and she's finally ready to. "I am _so,_ _so_ sorry that I hurt you. That was never my intention. I thought I was protecting myself, but even that didn't work. I made everything so much more complicated."

"Kate, shhh. We're here now. We're here now."

And then he's kissing her and this time she doesn't tamp down the moan that escapes as his lips capture hers. His tongue seeks entrance and she opens to him, meets him touch for touch. His hands sneak under her shirt, the light stroke of his fingertips to her skin a direct counterpoint to the work of his mouth down her throat. She cries out when he sucks at her pulse point and he pauses, rests his lips against her skin before pulling back to look at her.

He looks regretful and for a moment she's afraid she pushed for too much, too fast. Then his eyes cut down the hall and back to her and she catches on. "I don't want to have to be quiet with you but…"

"But your daughter's right down the hall," she finishes.

"Kate, I don't want to make any assumptions but do you think we could move this?" He's bashful, adorably shy and even though she wasn't going to deny him, there's no way she could now.

She pushes off the back of the sofa and plants her feet to the floor, shaky on watery legs. His hands come to the outsides of her thighs, she thinks maybe to steady her, but his touch does nothing to stop the tremble of her muscles. His palms slide up to grip her hips as he leans forward, breathes out against her stomach and nudges her shirt aside with his nose to press a kiss just to the side of her bellybutton.

"Rick," she warns, her fingers tightening in his hair as the tip of his tongue darts out to taste her skin. "If you want me to be quiet, you _have_ to stop that."

She feels him grin against her, the curve of his lips obviously wicked and she knows that someday it will be his goal to drive her to the brink right here on this sofa all the while whispering in her ear that she needs to keep it down, don't cry out.

Right now though, she just needs him. She takes a step back, finds that her knees do support her and offers a hand to help him up. He takes it, standing into her space and dipping his head to press his lips to hers again. In their previous position, she was raised above him, had the power to direct their kisses but this way, with his height advantage towering over her, he's in control and taking advantage of it. He walks her backward, sure in his steps and her fingers curve over the bulge of his biceps to keep him close as they move. His fingers hesitate at the buttons of her shirt and she pauses for a moment, pushing up on the balls of her feet to encourage him with the press of her mouth. The first button flicks open and his hands nudge into her sternum; she drops back to her feet to continue her backwards traverse. Her back bumps up against his bedroom door, the sudden stop jostling them apart.

She flicks her eyes to him, finds his roaming over her face, down her chest and stomach that's exposed between the flaps of her now open shirt that she lets fall down her arms and flutter to the floor. She curls one hand around the door handle, the other reaching around her back to undo the clasp of her bra, and she opens the door, backing into the room as the lingerie slips from her body.

He growls, a feral sound that fans the flames of her want, and stalks into the room, kicking her shirt in and slamming the door behind him.

* * *

It isn't until she's cooling down from round two that she realizes that while she feels that she has apologized profusely, she never has explained any of her actions. A lot of how she acted at Camp David was fear of her very personal life being upended and while she pushed past that to show him how she feels about him, that fear is still a real threat.

"Hey," he calls softly, rolling to his side and palming her cheek, "What's going on, you okay?"

She's trembling and he draws her against his chest, pulls the comforter up to cover them but she takes it one step further and pulls it over their heads, creating a dark cave that she can spill her secrets into.

"Kate?" He sounds terrified and she makes her body move, slides an arm over his waist, presses her lips to his bare chest and takes a deep breath.

"What happens now?" she whispers on a shaky exhale.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a Secret Service agent, my identity can't be out there, people can't know. But what if the press figures it out and what do we do then? I don't know what to do when my life is on display. But you're watched all the time, how do we even hide this, I don't know how to do this." She's crying by the time she stops rambling, the tears dripping on his arm propping her head up but he just holds her tighter, takes his own deep breath.

"I don't either. This is…there's no guidebook. No 'How to Be a Single President and Date the Woman that Guards Your Daughter' that I can refer to. This is the part that we have to figure out together."

"This is why I got so weird on vacation," she confesses. "Danny was around taking pictures and a whole bunch of the guys that I work with were around and I didn't want them to get the wrong idea. Well, I guess they would have gotten the right idea but anyway." She can't see his face clearly in the dark but she does catch his head cocking to the side in interest. Might as well tell him everything. "I had wanted to talk to you that weekend, about this," she waves her hand in the small space between their bodies, "about the possibility of us. And every time I almost had the courage, something would come up to scare me away again."

"But Sunday night, we were alone and still you…" His voice comes out strained, the hurt he still feels from being basically rejected by her bubbling to the surface.

"And what would have happened? You take me against the bar? In that booth? Drag me back to Aspen Lodge with three of my coworkers in tow? It wasn't the right time."

He deflates, his lips coming to rest at her hairline. "I see your point."

"Plus I was still mostly convinced that I would wreck this."

He pulls the comforter off their heads suddenly, the low, ambient light a slight shock from the dark the cover provided. She's able to see his face now and it's painted with incredulousness.

" _You_ would wreck this? Not me with the crazy ex-wife and the mother that can't keep her mouth shut and the never ending stream of media coverage?"

"Oh please, I've already handled Meredith once, your mother loves me, and I'll get back to you on the last one. And yes me, with the baggage from my mother's unsolved murder that I'm obsessed with-"

"You left it behind."

"-to the alcoholic father-"

"He's out of rehab."

"-to the fact that I'm on your daughter's Secret Service detail." He has no comeback for that one. "People are going to think that I used her to get to you."

"No one's going to think that."

"Really?" she presses.

He pauses, presses his lips together in thought until they blanch white. She lifts her hand to his chin, rubs her thumb over his bottom lip. He nips at her fingertip, presses a kiss to the pad of her thumb and she smiles at how easily he can make her do that. How simple it is for him to make her smile when she feels like the world could crash down around her.

"Okay, some people might think that. But we know better, who cares what they think?"

"I'm pretty sure your campaign is going to care a lot about what people think. You're running for a second term, I would irrefutably fuck that up."

He rolls her under him suddenly, takes her face in his hands and kisses her fiercely. "You are not fucking anything up," he growls. "You are making my life, my daughter's life so much better."

She stretches her neck and kisses him back, gently but with strength behind it, strokes her tongue to the roof of his mouth, works her lips over his until she feels him relax. "You make my life better, too," she whispers against his mouth. "Both of you."

He sags above her, his forehead coming to rest on hers and his weight pressing her into the mattress but it's comforting, not uncomfortable.

"I don't have all the answers," he says so softly she has to strain to hear. "But promise that you'll be willing to figure it out with me while we find our way?"

She presses a firm, quick kiss to his mouth. "Promise."

He rolls off her then but not in the direction she was expecting; instead of rolling back to his side, he slides off the bed, offers her a hand. "Shower with me? Let's start fresh."

She takes his hand and lets him lead her into the bathroom.

* * *

He's been staring at the clock for fifteen minutes while the most amazing woman he's ever known sleeps against his chest. He doesn't want to wake her, he really does not but he knows that they need to burst this bubble, that she needs to go before the bulk of the house staff arrives for the day. And probably before Alexis gets up. Not that his daughter would mind that Kate was here but still, it's not a conversation he wants to have this morning.

He drops a kiss to her forehead, the slope of her nose, and one to each cheek before softly kissing her mouth. She stirs and her lips purse under his, returning the kiss. He smiles against her, the touch of their lips crumbling between them and she yawns, her arms coming up over her head in a catlike stretch. The sheets slide from her body, exposing the creamy skin of her side and he runs a hand over her ribs, around her back and down to cup her ass and pull her against him. She gasps, her eyes wide and lusty and he almost loses himself in them, in her before he remembers why he was waking her up in the first place.

He sighs, heavy with regret. "You really should get going."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You grab me like that and then kick me out?"

"I know! I'm sorry!" He kisses her apologetically, keeps it short for fear of getting distracted again and moves his hand up to her side, against her ribs, his thumb close enough to caress her breast. "Damn it!" he curses, removes his hands from her altogether, immediately misses the touch of her. She giggles at him, actually giggles and his resolve almost crumbles again. "You need to not be so adorable; you're making this more difficult."

She sobers, seduction taking over her features and she presses up to lift over him, one hand planted beside his head, the other coming to rest on his chest. "Difficult or…" her fingers trail down his chest, over his stomach and he knows exactly what she is doing and he really should stop her but then she's grasping him in her hand and oh God, she is so good at this. "Hard?"

Oh, fuck it.

He cups a hand around the back of her neck and pulls her down for a kiss, her leg swinging over to straddle his hips. He did technically wake her early enough for another round.

* * *

Now she _really_ needs to go.

She locates all her clothes, slides on her underwear and bra and wrinkles her nose at the state that her suit and shirt are in from being haphazardly tossed around the room. She hasn't done a walk of shame in a long, long time and she's not at all keen to do in what is essentially her work place.

"You should have packed a bag," he comments as he comes out of the bathroom.

"And how presumptuous would that have looked?"

"Can't deny it would have come in handy."

"Shut up," she says on a laugh, not a trace of meanness in her tone.

"I, um," he starts and she looks up from the clothes in her hands to find him fidgeting. "Um, I might have a solution." He walks to a door on the other side of the room and opens it to reveal a closet lined with women's clothing.

"Something you want to tell me?" she teases as she comes up behind him.

"There not Meredith's," he's quick to clarify and that makes her pause because she wasn't even considering that. "They're not anyone's."

Her face contorts in confusion. "Okay, you need to explain this."

"Some of my staff thought that I would…bring women home, from, like, charity functions and stuff. After Meredith, I mean. They thought that I would…hook up. But that's – it's not who I am."

She slides her arms around his waist, presses her front to his and places a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I know it's not." He sighs, his arms slinging low at the small of her back. "But you really…never?"

"No," he shrugs, shaking his head. "No one was ever…worth it."

She smiles at that, buries her face in his chest for a moment. "So, when you said it's been a while…?"

"I really, really meant that."

She's flooded with emotion at his confession, unsure how she could be so worthy of this man and so grateful that she is all at the same time. She tightens her arms around him, and he just holds her in silence for a minute while she gets her bearings.

"So, I could wear something out of here?" she asks as she pulls back.

"Yep. It'd be easier to explain than wearing what you had on yesterday."

"Not that I have a reason for still being here if I run into anyone," she mutters.

"Got the dates wrong on one of Alexis's events?"

"That makes me look sloppy."

"Need to finish some paperwork?"

"Oh, that could work. Not even a lie, really. I came right here after her school day, I should file the log."

"There ya go." He drops a kiss to her forehead, untangles himself from around her and turns her toward the closet. "Now find some clothes and get out of here."

"Yes, sir, Mr. President," she says with a wink.

* * *

She finds a pinstriped pantsuit in her size, pairs it with a simple white shirt, pulls her mostly disheveled hair in a bun and opens some of the brand new cosmetics in the bathroom drawers to make herself presentable.

He has a cup of coffee waiting for her when she emerges, that same vanilla flavor hitting her taste buds. "Do you guys have the same syrup here as Camp David?"

"No. I, uh, brought a bottle back."

"That weekend?" she clarifies, unable to hide the surprise in her tone.

"Yeah," he shrugs, embarrassed. "I thought maybe I could give you a peace offering. Something to get you to talk to me. But I just got angrier and so I…never tried."

She's flooded with regret again at how bad she messed up that weekend. His fingers feather over her cheek, move down under her chin to bring her face up to his and she's reminded of how he did the same thing last night. Because he wants her here, he wants to be in this just as much as she does.

"I'm over it. You should get over it, too."

"I'm trying."

"That's all I'm asking for." He leans in to kiss her, different now that she's in heels and they're at the same level. He kisses her slowly, reverently; it's a kiss that clearly indicates that he knows she's not going anywhere, that they have time to do this for eternity.

But they don't, not right now, and she pulls back regretfully. "I need to go."

"I know." He pouts but takes her hand and leads her over the private stairs. "Should run into less people this way."

"Yeah," she agrees, the word laden with sadness. She really doesn't want to go. She wants to finish her coffee curled up on the couch with him. Wants to have Alexis join them while they all watch cartoons together. Wants to have a late lunch and an afternoon nap where they do anything but nap.

"Kate." The soft call of her name brings her out of her reverie and she lifts her eyes to find the same longing and regret in his. "I know."

He takes her coffee from her, sets it on the small table at the top of the stairs and opens the lone drawer, producing a pen and a pad of paper. He scribbles something on it, ripping the sheet off and dropping the pen and paper back in the drawer. He folds it up and presses it to her palm, closes her fingers over it. Curiosity gets the better of her and she opens her hand, unfolds the paper to find a phone number.

"It's a private number. A really, really private number. You probably don't even have clearance to know that I have it."

"I don't. I didn't know."

"It's the only way I can think of to keep in touch. I know we'll see each other but we can't always talk freely so-"

She kisses him, the piece of paper held tight in her fist. "It's perfect."

He smiles, that pleased smile that crinkles his eyes and she brushes his hair back from where it's flopped over his forehead.

"You need to go."

"I know." She practically whines it.

"I'll talk to you later," he reminds her, tapping the fist that holds the phone number.

That brings a smile to her face. "I'll talk to you later."

* * *

 _A/N: I love that I got to post this on the final Castle Fanfic Monday of the hiatus._

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	10. Chapter 10

Things have been going so well. In the last few months, they've celebrated Alexis's birthday, Kate's birthday, Thanksgiving and the best Christmas he's ever had. A few weeks ago, they made it through the anniversary of her mother's death. He wanted to go with her to New York to visit her mother's grave but they both knew that there was no way that they could fly that under the media's radar. Besides, he's sure that she wanted to go on her own anyway. But he held her tight when she returned, waited for the jagged edges of her to fit back together into something more whole.

They've done really well keeping everything under wraps. It helps that Kate being on Alexis's detail is a handy excuse to explain her being so many places with the two of them. He lets the media run with a story that Alexis is close with one of her Secret Service agents because it only lends credibility to the whole thing.

She stays for dinner more often than not, ends the night in his bed more often than not. She is so deeply embedded in his mind and in his heart that he's not sure he can imagine his life without her anymore.

But as he looks at the file that contains Dr. Murray's findings, he knows that he has to do something that may drive her from him forever.

* * *

She's tired as she drags herself up the private stairs. It's been a long couple of days filled with tons of extra meetings about the influx of foreign dignitaries due in next week. Her brain's already swimming with Alexis's schedule during that time, not to mention the extra details that she has to cover when Alexis's obligations are met.

That's why tonight and tomorrow are so important. Both she and Rick will be swamped with duties next week with no idea when – or even if – they'll get any time together. But it's Friday so they can have dinner, Alexis can stay up late, everyone can sleep in and they can have a pajama day tomorrow and she's not sure if the kid or the man is more excited about that.

(Definitely Rick. He even bought new Superman pajamas for what he's calling "Jammies Day.")

She finds him in the kitchen, plating up food obviously brought up from the kitchens. He tries to maintain normalcy, a semblance that he doesn't live in a huge, historic home with a full complement of staff but the reality is, they've never made dinner together since that first night. There just isn't time and, as she reminds him one night when he's pouting about how weird it makes him feel, him being here gives all those people jobs so when he feels bad that they're doing his laundry or putting together his daughter's lunch, he should be proud that he's keeping them employed.

Besides, the pork chops he's placing on the plates smell divine and her stomach rumbles as the scent fills her nostrils, loud enough that it alerts him to her presence.

"I'd ask you if you're hungry, but I don't think I need the answer," he says on a laugh.

She shrugs. "It's been a long day. I've pretty much just snacked."

"Do you wanna change?"

"I'd rather just eat. Alexis in her room?" He nods. "I'll go get her."

She turns to leave but his halted by his soft "hey" and when she turns back, he's right there, arms snaking around her waist and his mouth seeking hers. She sinks into the kiss, her fingers running through his hair, her short nails scratching gently on his scalp. He hums appreciatively, one of his hands coming up to her jaw, angling her head and kissing her again. It's a lazy and directionless kiss, his tongue stroking hers softly, his hands roaming slowly. It's nice, but it's not how he usually greets her.

"What was that for?" she asks as he breaks off and places his forehead to hers.

"Gotta get my time in now, right?" He shrugs, placing one more smacking kiss to her lips. "I'll set the table."

He leaves her standing there, just outside the kitchen, and she can't help but feel like there's something more to it.

* * *

Alexis fills in the silence at dinner, both adults too worn out to contribute much. They all clear the table, and he and Kate work on the dishes together – him washing, her drying – while Alexis picks out a movie for them to watch. It's moments like this that can make him manage to forget about his job and the demands it places on him and imagine how it would be if they were normal people. Maybe he's a writer, slaving away to create fantastic worlds that people can lose themselves in. Maybe she'd be a detective by now, bringing criminals to justice in this unjust world. They could live in a loft in Manhattan, his daughter top of her class at a renowned private school, their kids easily accepted into prestigious preschools because of how wonderfully bright they are.

Sometimes though, he imagines how it would be if he had met her earlier. If Alexis was theirs and had always known the love of her mother. How much more satisfying would his political wins have been if he had had her by his side as a true support system? What programs would she institute as First Lady? Or would she run for her own office?

"Rick." Her voice shatters his imagined wandering, a huff of affectionate impatience following. He realizes that he's just been rubbing the sponge over the plate as he thought and she's waiting on him to rinse it and hand it over.

"Sorry," he apologizes sheepishly, hurrying to run water over the plate, dripping a puddle on the floor as he passes it to her. "Got lost in my own head."

"What were you thinking about?" She playfully bumps her hip to his, the move making him smile and lean in for a quick peck at her lips.

"I was imagining what things would be like if we were normal people with normal jobs."

She takes the cup he hands her, her eyes unfocused as she runs the towel over it. "Normal. I'm not sure I even know what that's like. Normal for me would include my mom being here."

Oh God, he's an idiot. "Shit, Kate, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, it's fine," she assures, her eyes clear and focused on him now. "I wasn't making a point, I was just saying."

He knows she means it, knows they're at a point where they can talk about the fact that her mother isn't here without a sick wash of grief taking over her every time but still, he feels like a moron for not even considering that.

They finish the dishes in silence and Kate goes to change into pajamas, her laughter ringing from the bedroom as she finds the Wonder Woman set that he laid out on the bed for her. As much as they've managed to fly under the radar, he's sure that purchase raised an eyebrow or two. But she plants a sloppy kiss on him when she drops next to him on the sofa and her happy grin makes the risk completely worth it.

He slides an arm over her shoulder and she fits herself against his side, drops her head to his shoulder. Alexis settles on the other side of Kate, the woman reaching out to settle her hand over one of his daughter's calves and absently rubbing her thumb against the girl's flannel pajama pants.

They all looked drained. Well, Alexis less so but it's getting close to the time she usually sleeps and he's sure that she won't make it to the end of the movie. He's not sure any of them will.

* * *

He wakes up during the credits, his neck stiff from the way his head is lolled to the side. Though his cheek is resting on the crown of Kate's head so had she not been there, it might have been worse. Alexis wormed her way across both of their laps at one point, his thigh becoming her pillow and one of Kate's arms is draped over her.

He lifts his head, hissing at the way his neck twinges, and Kate shifts, a quiet groan in her throat but she nuzzles her face into his shirt and relaxes against him once more, still asleep.

He'll wake them both in a moment but for now, he runs his hand over the spill of Alexis's hair, cranes his still aching neck to take in his girlfriend's profile, the slope of her nose and the delicate shadows her eyelashes splash over her cheeks in the low light. Affection, warm and comforting, wells up in him as he soaks up the presence of his two favorite girls, internally wincing at how Kate would probably react to being labeled as such. But even that makes him smile, doesn't break the joy he feels at having them so close.

He feels himself starting to nod off again and knows that it's time to disturb them. He starts with Kate and slowly removes his arm from around her, the dislodgement of her pillow bringing her back. He gives her a moment, lets her blink her eyes and adjust to being conscious before motioning to the girl draped across them.

"I'll get her," Kate murmurs, moving to scoop Alexis into her arms.

He'll never cease to marvel at how easily she adjusts to being awoken suddenly. He's like a bear coming out of hibernation, confused and trying to figure out his surroundings, but one blare of her alarm and she's hopping out of bed with barely a yawn. He can't imagine having the bearings to carry Alexis so soon after being pulled out of sleep but Kate's standing on steady legs as she turns to head down the hall.

He stretches his arms over his head for a moment and stands to follow her. Picking up his pace, he hurries to enter the room ahead of her, pulls down the covers and Kate gives him a grateful look as she settles Alexis on the sheets. His heart swells when she presses a kiss to the girl's temple and she moves back, lets him pull the covers over his daughter and kiss her in the same place Kate had.

He offers his hand and she slides her fingers between his, lets him lead her out of the room and down the hall, the muffled falls of their feet the only sounds that bounce against the walls. They brush their teeth and then stumble into bed, pulling the covers over themselves with drowsy hands. He winds an arm over her side and pulls her back flush to his front, his mouth curving up automatically as she wriggles against him, getting comfortable before she lets out a heavy sigh, her body going slack.

He so desperately wants to follow her into sleep, every muscle in his body screaming out for the oblivion of the black. But his brain is stuck back in his study attached to the bedroom and the manila envelope of information that he needs to give to her.

She didn't expressly say that he couldn't have anyone look into her mother's case but it was heavily implied that he should let it lie when she explained why she had left it behind. And now he has to find a way to tell her that he not only didn't, but that there's some compelling evidence that indicates her mother's murder was anything but random.

And he has no idea how she'll react, but he can't imagine it will be good. And he knows that the longer he waits to tell her, the more upset she'll be that he kept it from her.

He tightens the arm banded around her, nudges a thigh between her legs, buries his face in the nape of her neck and breathes her scent in deep.

If he has to tell her tomorrow, he'll do anything he can to memorize her tonight.

* * *

Kate wakes the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the windows. She slams her eyelids closed against it and turns her face away only to be met with her boyfriend's shoulder, the man half on top of her in sleep. He has an arm slung over her middle, a leg laying heavy over both of hers. It's sweet, if a little cloying and she shifts until she's lying beside him, one of her feet tingling as blood flow returns.

She turns to her side, stifling a giggle as she finds him with his face mashed to the pillow, his mouth parted as he dozes. She takes a moment to study him, admire the line of his jaw, the bow of his lips. But she also sees the dark shadows under his eyes, notes that even in sleep he looks a little tense. She knows next week is going to be busy but she didn't realize how stressed he was about it.

Well, isn't that mostly the point of today? The calm before the storm?

She slips out of bed slowly, pausing to make sure that she hasn't woken him before padding out of the room. She finds Alexis in the sitting room, watching cartoons with the sound turned down low.

"Hey kid, you want breakfast?"

"I was waiting for you." Kate smiles at that, lips closed but eyes sparkling, always amazed at how sweet she can be.

"Okay, but we're just doing cereal today, nothing elaborate."

"Oh." The corners of her lips turn down and she drops her eyes, fiddles with the hem of her pants. "Not even French toast?" She looks up through her eyelashes and Kate sighs, knows that she can't tell her no.

"Let's see what's in the kitchen."

Alexis beams at her.

Kate gets coffee going while Alexis carefully pulls the eggs out of the fridge, setting them gingerly on the counter. They locate the other ingredients together and Alexis directs her to where the griddle pan is kept. Kate makes up the egg mixture and Alexis dunks the bread, gently flipping slices in the bowl to coat both sides. When there's a stack of golden bread, Kate divides them onto three plates and sets Alexis up at the coffee table so she can watch her shows as she eats. She pulls out a tray and sets her's and Rick's plates on it, adds a bowl of fruit and two mugs of coffee and slowly makes her way back to the bedroom with the laden tray.

He's still sleeping when she enters the room, curled on his side now, her pillow clutched to his chest. She sets his coffee on the night stand and carries the tray over to her side, setting it on the floor for now lest he flail and spill their breakfast everywhere. She uncurls his fingers from the pillow and slowly removes it from his arms, quickly slipping in to replace herself with the object. His hands splay at her back and he lets out a low, happy hum that almost sounds like her name at the end. She nuzzles at his neck, places a kiss to the underside of his jaw and watches as his eyelids flutter open at her touch.

She loves waking him like this, loves watching the awareness of her body so close to his own dawn on his face. So many of their mornings are tainted with alarms and early morning escapes that this kind of languid awakening is rare.

He blinks a few times, his eyes clearing when they settle on her face. "Hi," he breathes, wonder taking over his features.

"Hey," she answers on a breathless laugh, her cheeks aching with her smile.

He lifts a hand to trace his fingers over her face, trails a fingertip down her nose, over the rise of her cheekbones, and rubs his thumb over her lower lip. He looks sad as he does and she can't have that today, can't have him lamenting the time that they won't have together when they've had so much in the last four months and will have so much more.

"I brought you breakfast. Alexis insisted on French toast."

He smirks. "And you couldn't say no."

"Like you could have."

"Okay, point," he concedes.

It's her turn to smirk and she smears a quick kiss to his mouth before extracting herself from his arms and pushing up to sit cross legged on the bed. "There's coffee on your night stand." She points, laughing softly as his eyes widen in excitement and he scrambles to sit up, reaching greedily for the mug. She leans over the edge and lifts the tray up to set it in the middle of the bed, raising her own coffee to her lips, sighing contentedly as it flows over her taste buds. They tuck into breakfast, stealing bites of food off each other's plates and sharing smiles and touches and just generally enjoying a quiet morning in their otherwise hectic lives.

"What do you want to do today?" she asks as they stack their plates and she drains the last of her coffee to add the mug to the tray.

"I want to read," he answers, his emphatic emphasis on the last word drawing a chuckle from her. "Something fictional, something for my enjoyment."

"I think we can manage that." She slides off the bed, taking the tray with her and starts to head out.

"Hey," he calls before she can reach the door and she turns to find him with an arm outstretched towards her, his hand palm up and inviting. "Take that out in a minute? Shower with me?"

She sets the tray on the floor where she stands and strips her tank top off as she saunters past him to the bathroom, leaving him in the middle of the room in a stupor.

"That was a yes, by the way."

Her voice seems to break him out of his trance and he hurries to scurry after her, her laughter ringing off the tiles.

* * *

It occurs to him that he can't put this off anymore. She's planning to leave within the next hour and he cannot let an entire week go by while he sits on evidence that pertains to her mother's murder.

He already hates himself for this this, hates that he's going to ruin what has been a fantastic day. He did get a chance to read and with her feet in his lap while she was buried in a novel herself. They had built a blanket fort with Alexis, the girl insisting that it be a blanket maze instead and so they drug chairs out from all the rooms, creating a path most of the way down the hall. They all crawled through from different directions until he heard Alexis shriek in delight, a bright laugh from Kate joining the mix and he crawled toward the sound until he found them and the most epic of tickle wars broke out until they were all red in the face and laughing too hard to continue.

By the time everything was put back in place, Alexis was yawning but at his suggestion of a nap, she hesitated. Kate spoke up by saying that they were going to nap as well and that seemed to satisfy his daughter. They watched her shuffle down the hall for a moment and then he followed Kate to his room, crowding at her back as she opened the door, winding his arms over her stomach and opening his mouth against her neck.

"We're not actually going to nap, are we?" he asked as he kicked the door closed behind him.

Kate turned in his arms, hers rising to wrap around his neck as she hungrily captured his mouth. "Not even a little bit," she mumbled against his lips.

But now it was after dinner and Alexis was in bed. It was just the two of them until she had to leave. And that time was coming up fast. He should be distracting her from gathering her things, he should be sliding his hands under her shirt and his lips against her skin but instead he was pacing his study, the manila envelope on his desk taunting him.

He halts his steps at the soft knock against the door frame, turns to find his girlfriend regarding him with concern.

"You okay?" she asks crossing the distance to him and winding her arms at his waist.

He doesn't answer right away because he isn't sure how. Because the answer to that question is yes, he is fine. But she's about to not be.

"I know there's a lot going on next week but you can handle it. And we'll survive not being able to spend time together. It'll make coming back together even better." She grins wolfishly, gives him a slow, dirty roll of her hips that has his groaning in spite of himself.

He could go with this, he could use this excuse for his mood and blow it all off, lay her out on his desk to send her off with a goodbye that would leave them both with a smile.

But he can't lie to her like that.

He drops his forehead to hers, gives himself one deep breath in to gather her scent in his memory again. "Kate, sit down."

He feels the shift in her immediately, her defenses snapping into place as her spine goes rigid. "Why?" Her voice is sharp as honed steel and he finds himself wincing before he gathers his courage and steps back, scoops the envelope off his desk and moves to drop on one end of a loveseat.

She follows warily, gingerly lowers herself to the very edge of a cushion. Every bit of her is coiled to run and his heart preemptively breaks because that is exactly what he's been fearing she would do.

"It's, um, it's about your mother's murder."

Every bit of her demeanor changes, all the hard edged fight drains from her and she fixes him with a look that makes him want to take it all back as she broadcasts betrayal and fear and terrified little girl at him. She slumps back against the arm of the loveseat, a shaky breath escaping her lungs. "What?"

He avoids her eyes because he knows that if he looks at her, he won't be able to tell her any of this. "I reached out to a forensic pathologist and asked him to look into it. He found three other murders around the same time with the same M.O. Kate," he forces himself to meet her eyes, finds them shining with unshed tears, understanding beginning to bloom. He might not have to say it but, "Her murder was not random."

She drops her eyes. "How long have you known?" she forces out through a clenched jaw.

"He came back to me with the findings yesterday. I didn't want to put off telling you."

"Oh, but you could put off telling me that you reopened my mother's case?" Her voice rises in volume as she speaks and the last word comes out on a shout. He hurries to close the door and when he turns back, he finds her on her feet, her hands balled into fists at her side. She looks ready for a fight.

"That's not what I did. It's not reopened, I just…had the FBI get the file and turned it over to Dr. Murray to see what he could find."

"So, you're going to make it a federal case now?"

His anger grows with each accusation she throws at him. "No." he answers forcefully. "But you could do that if you wanted. There's enough evidence to warrant one now."

"Why would I do that? Why would I let the Feds wade through my life like that? Why would I sign myself up to have the scabs ripped off those wounds?"

"It wouldn't have to be like that." He pauses, takes in the tension lining her body, the hesitance she's trying to desperately to hide but after the time they've spent together, he can see it. "It's because you're afraid, isn't it? You're afraid that if they look into your mother's death, that you'll go back down that rabbit hole and lose yourself again. But it's different this time. We have good leads. We have strong leads. And I'd be here for you every step of the way."

That seems to harden her and she huffs a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, this is all about you, isn't it? But what if I don't wanna know? Did you ever think of that? What if I'm not ready? What if the idea of catching my mom's murderer and then having to sit there and watch as he cuts some deal that puts him back out on the street in ten years makes me nauseous? You dredged up my past for you, Rick, not for me, and you're too selfish to even see it."

The anger roars to life inside him, this accusation too heinous to stand. "That is _not_ why I did this!" She recoils as he yells and a sick sense of satisfaction takes root.

"Then why?"

His anger is doused as quickly as it raged as the answer to that breathless question springs into his mind. It's something he's known deep down but hasn't had the courage to admit to himself, let alone out loud to her. But he knows that it's absolute truth.

The truth sets you free, right?

He meets her eyes. "Because I love you."

She deflates, her shoulders dropping as what looks like the beginning of a smile ghosts over her lips. But then she shakes her head, her eyes filled with sadness more than anything else. "You tell me that now? After you told me you betrayed my trust? How can I trust anything that you say?"

Is she serious? "How can you trust me? How can you ask me that after everything that we've been through to be together? After everything that we still fight through every day to stay together? You are the most remarkable, maddening, challenging, frustrating person I have ever met. And I have fallen in love with you, Kate, and if that means _anything_ to you, if you care about me at all, then you know that I didn't do this for me."

She clenches her jaw as he speaks, tears finally falling from her eyes and he clings to hope that she hears him, really _hears_ him and knows that he's being truthful. Because if she can't trust him, he was a fool for ever thinking this relationship would work. She stares at him for a long moment and then turns on a sigh, moving through the doors that lead to his room and he listens as she picks up her overnight bag, tracks the sound of her footsteps to the hall. He opens the office door just in time to see her entering the hallway for the elevator, but she's passes it by, her footsteps soft but still carrying up the as she descends the stairs.

He moves numbly back to the loveseat and drops beside the large envelope that she failed to take with her.

* * *

Kate sits in her condo in Annapolis, a glass of wine cradled to her chest, and she's not even sure how she managed to get home, let alone changed into comfortable sweats. Their argument and his confessions swirl in her mind and she has no idea how to order her thoughts about it all.

He had someone look into her mother's murder behind her back. He did it to help her. But he used his position to his advantage without so much as checking with her first.

And he loves her.

She almost said it back, almost let the words fall from her lips but her anger held her back. Because she does feel betrayed. But here in the safety of her own home, she allows herself the smile that she smothered down when he said it.

 _He loves her._

A knock on her door startles her, the wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the glass. She sets it on the coffee table and makes her way over to the side table by the door, pulling her personal gun out before looking through the peephole. There's a White House aide fidgeting in the hallway, a kid that she's seen before but can't quite place his name. Chris? Chet? Charlie?

Never mind. The better question is, what the hell does he want?

She slides the chain away and unlocks the deadbolt, gun hidden behind her thigh as she opens the door a few inches and latches a glare onto the aide's face. The kid swallows and she almost feels bad that he was the one that was sent to her.

"Delivery from the President, ma'am."

Oh, seriously? He has to send an aide to do his dirty work now?

Then the kid holds out the manila envelope that Rick tried to give her earlier, a small white envelope with her first name scrawled across it taped to the front. Her throat goes dry and against her better judgement, she opens the door wider, taking the offered item. The aide nods and scurries off down the hall, leaving her standing in the doorway.

She closes the door, puts the gun away, slides the locks back into place and pads over the sofa, replacing her wine glass with the envelope on the coffee table and drawing her knees up to her chest when she sits.

She stares at it as she sips the wine, her eyes tracing her name written in what she's come to know as his hand. She does know that he didn't do it for him and her cheeks pink with the shame that she accused him of such. She's not ready to look at the evidence but she pulls the white envelope off and opens it, pulling a simple white card from it.

 _Kate,_

 _Even though you're mad at me, I'd regret it if I didn't share what we've found. This is the only copy. Do with it what you want, it's yours._

 _I'm sorry._

 _What I did was wrong. I violated your trust, I opened old wounds, and I did not respect your wishes. And if we're not going to see each other again, then you deserve to know that I am very, very sorry._

 _-Rick_

The breath leaves her as she reads the line about not seeing other again, her heart constricting at the thought. That's not what she was doing when she left, she just needed space to process the information he had bombarded her with. But she didn't tell him that and she can see why that's the conclusion that he jumped to.

She stands from the sofa, drifts over to the window and lays her forehead to the glass, taking in her quiet street and the cars that line it. She thinks about what her life would be if she were still in New York. She would probably be a detective, she was already prepping to take the exam, but she would probably be saddled with a partner. With her luck, it would be someone insufferable that doesn't do their fair share of paperwork. She's sure that she'd be overworked and stressed out of her mind and it would be all her own workaholic fault.

Instead, she took a chance, accepted a job offer that was terrifying and look where it's brought her. Look who it's brought into her life. She'd never really been a kid person but Alexis is amazing. She didn't come here trying to find someone, but yet there's Rick. The exact other half she didn't even know she was missing.

She knows exactly what she wants in her life and it's time that she finally acknowledges it.

* * *

He's not sleeping. He can't, not after reassuring his daughter who was woken by their argument. Not after deciding to have the evidence taken over to her. He knows it might only serve to fuel her anger, push her further out of his life but he didn't do it for himself, it belongs to her and she should have it.

He's standing in his study, staring blankly over the South Lawn as he contemplates how much of a colossal ass he's been. She's right, he should have told her about Dr. Murray and given her the option to see what the pathologist could glean. Instead, he steamrolled through her life, ripped off those scabs she mentioned without a care in the world. And now she's alone and hurting and he can't even hold her in his arms as she heals.

"I've thought about it."

He whips around at the sound of Kate's voice, finds her standing in the doorway in a worn pair of sweatpants, her fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of her hoodie. He strides across the room, wanting nothing more than to wrap her up and crush her to his chest but she seems to realize his intentions and holds up a hand, warding him off and he halts a few feet from her, waiting expectantly.

"We had an epitaph engraved on my mother's headstone. 'Vincit omnia veritas.' Truth concurs all. That was what she believed above all others and if I deny this truth now," she holds up the manila envelope, "then I'm denying her."

He holds his breath, waiting for her continue but she pauses there. "I will do anything that you need, including nothing, if that's what you want."

She smiles and the noose around his heart loosens. "What I want is to find my mother's killer."

"I meant it when I said the evidence is yours, you can turn it over to whoever you want. It doesn't have to be Federal; you can give it to your friends in the NYPD if you prefer."

"I haven't decided yet."

He nods at that, willing to be silent on this topic. She brushes past him then, his eyes dropping shut for a moment at having the warmth of her so close when he thought that he wouldn't experience that ever again. She places the large envelope on the desk and he drifts closer to her, always drawn to her.

"There's something else I want too," she says softly, turning to face him.

"What's that?" he murmurs.

"You," she breathes as she cups his jaw in her palms and pushes up on tiptoes to lay claim to his mouth. "I just want you."

He places his hands under her thighs, steadying her as she wraps her legs tight at his hips and carries her to his bed to show how much he wants her as well.

* * *

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_

 _A/N: All remaining chapters have been betaed and will be up as I get them edited. Thanks for sticking with me._


	11. Chapter 11

Some days, Kate can't believe that they've managed to stay under the radar as long as they have. There have been so many close calls, so many mornings that she's left too late and has almost run into the staff arriving for the day. So many times that they've held eye contact too long in a crowded room, risked a brush of fingers as they passed each other.

She was worried that constant thoughts of him would distract her at work but she's been able to compartmentalize, able to focus on Alexis and her job. The simmering want for him is there, sure, but it was surprisingly easy to tamp it down once she knew what it was like to be with him, once she wasn't mired down in the burden of uncertainty.

She stretches at the sound of her alarm and reaches over to turn off its shrill yell. She's not sure why she's woken up with this on her mind today. It probably has something to do with the dance they shared at the gala at the end of the European dignitaries visit. He had been dancing with a lot of women that evening, wives of presidents and prime ministers, a few senators' wives. At one point, he had come over to talk to Alexis where she was sitting with Kate to make sure that his daughter was having a good time.

"Daddy," she had said with a frown, beckoning him closer. "Why aren't you dancing with Kate?"

The agent practically choked on the sip of water she was drinking when the girl's whispered question reached her ears. Rick shot her a look painted with amusement before giving his daughter his full attention again.

"Sweetie, we've talked about this. You know why."

"Yeah, but, I wish you could."

He smiled sadly at her, ran his hand down her hair. "Me too, Alexis."

The girl shrugged. "Then do it. You could tell them I told you to."

His head cocked to the side in thought and then he rose and held his hand out to a very shocked Kate. "Agent Beckett, would you do me the honor of a dance?"

"But…I'm working."

"Agent Harris," he called to the man standing a respectable distance away. "My daughter is insisting that I dance with Agent Beckett, would you mind if I stole her away for a moment?"

Harris moved to position himself behind Alexis's chair, nodding acquiescence. With no other barriers in their way, Kate had slipped her hand into his and allowed him to lead her onto the crowded dance floor. Amongst the other woman in their designer dresses, she stood out in her pantsuit. The same pinstriped one she had taken from the closet after their first night together, she realized with some amusement. But it had felt good to be in his arms in a somewhat public setting, felt nice to just twirl around a dancefloor with her hand in his. The song ended far too soon and he left her with a kiss to her knuckles and burning desire in his eyes. It had been wonderful.

Kate poured herself a cup of coffee as she reminisced, absently stirring in the creamer and leaving the mug on the counter to cool as she went to retrieve the newspaper. She was thinking of how blue his eyes were as they danced when she opened the door and leaned over to pick up the Post.

But she froze as her eyes focused on the front page, her stomach bottoming out. There staring back at her was a photo of Rick and her in the exact dance she was musing about, their eyes locked on each other as everyone's eyes around them were watching the couple.

 _The President's Girlfriend_ it screams across the top of the photo.

Oh. God.

* * *

His phone rings at four-thirty in the morning which is never a good sign.

"Yeah?" he slurs, trying to shake the cobwebs of sleep from his head.

"Sir, we have a situation." His Chief of Staff wastes no time.

"That's usually the case when you call me this early, I'll be down in twenty."

"I'm on my way up to you."

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. "Aaron, we have a deal. The Residence gets to be my house; we don't bring work into my house. I'll meet you on the State Floor if you can't wait for me to get to the Oval."

"We need to talk about this before you leave your house."

He's dealt with plenty of crises over his Presidency but none that have required this level of intervention. "Aaron, what is going on?"

"They know about Kate."

His heart stops, his blood going cold in his veins. He tries to speak, finds that he has no breath and sucks air into hesitant lungs. "Who's 'they,' Aaron?"

"I'll show you in thirty seconds." The line goes dead and he drops the phone where he is, not bothering to replace the receiver.

Rick manages to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, every movement a struggle as he's weighed down with not knowing exactly what's happening. He hears footsteps in the hall and then Aaron gives a cursory knock on the door before pushing his way in.

He has a stack of newspapers in his arms and he starts dropping them one by one on the bed. D.C. papers first, then USA Today, then a few of the bigger New York City papers, one from Los Angeles, Miami, Chicago, Kansas City. And all of them have he and Kate front and center accompanied by headlines that range from factual to insulting.

He presses the heels of hands to his eyes until he sees starbursts, a long and heavy sigh escaping him. But when his eyes clear, it's still the same. He lifts his face to Aaron, his old friend looking at him with compassion.

"Guess the jig is up."

* * *

His staff has already set up in the Roosevelt Room, televisions from all the major news outlets running the story with gusto. They stand when he enters, the chatter dying down instantly.

"Good morning, everyone. Where are we with this?" He starts as he sits, indicating that they should do the same. He's greeted them the same way many times before but never before has the "this" had something to do with him directly.

"We're still determining where the leak came from and especially who took that photo," Anita, one of the Deputy Chiefs of Staff, speaks up. "There was no press inside the gala that evening but the quality is too good to have come from a cell phone. We're still working on it."

"There's no stopping the story though, it's too far spread at this point," his Press Secretary, Hannah, points out. "Official word is 'no comment' but we need to get something out there. And soon."

He nods. "Agreed. We have statements prepared?" he asks Alex. The kid has been writing speeches for him since before he was out of college; Rick is still convinced that he won the New York Senate seat due to Alex's words.

"Um, mostly. I wasn't sure what angle you wanted to take."

"Write the bones, I'll fill in the rest, you know the drill." They've done it this way for a while, Alex writing an outline and transition phrases with Rick filling in his specific policies and details that the speechwriter wouldn't have knowledge of.

"Yeah, but, are we denying this, or…?" He trails off as Rick gives him a steely look.

"No, Alex. There's nothing to deny." He stands, looking around the room to find most of his staff avoiding his gaze. "Everyone understands that, right? I am not denying something that is very, very true. Kate and I are in a relationship and I'm not sure how we managed to keep it to ourselves as long as we did but now it's out there and it's time to come clean about it."

"We all know. We've been helping keep it quiet," Aaron informs him.

Rick freezes. "For how long?"

"Maybe a week after it started? There's some debate between us as to when it was official but that's my best guess."

"You've… known?"

Aaron shrugs as the other occupants of the table continue to evade eye contact. "It's next to impossible to keep secrets in this town, you know that, Rick. We all noticed the attraction between you two but then one day you were different, happier, and you lit up when she'd enter the room. People that don't know you might have thought it was because of Alexis, but we knew you were looking at her Secret Service Agent. And we liked her, not the best background but she never denied any of it so we figured it could be spun into something good. And she was good for you, so…"

He sinks back in his seat as Aaron talks, realization hitting him. "You all knew?" They nod.

"I shut down stories as I heard about them," Hannah offers. "They were all hearsay and rumor mill speculation but when the picture surfaced, they had a face and then they had a name and it spread too fast for me to put out the fires."

"You've been putting out fires for five months?" The woman nods. "Thanks." She smiles and ducks her head but she deserves his gratitude. They all do. "Thank you, all of you. Kate has been the one spot of normalcy in my life and the fact that you all fought to help me keep that means the world to me."

There are murmurs of "You're welcome" from around the room but then he realizes who's missing from this meeting.

"Where is Kate?"

Aaron's the only one brave enough to answer him. "She's with Rancic."

* * *

It's embarrassing to be brought in like this. She dressed after she brought in the newspaper, slamming it face down on her kitchen counter. She knew that it was only a matter of time before an escort would be showing up for her and sure enough, five minutes after slipping into a pair of shoes, there was a knock on her door. They had sent Davies and Holder to collect her and she was glad for that, they were good guys that had always treated her with respect. The ride in had been quiet, the guys only speaking when they needed to let her know where to go. She was brought immediately to the director's office, Rancic greeting her with a small smile, his eyes radiating pity.

"I'm done, aren't I?" she asks as she sits.

"They got your name and I'm working my ass off to figure out how but, yeah, you have to be done."

"Sir, I didn't show up as some doe eyed girl looking for a boyfriend," she's emphatic, even more so than she intended but she's suddenly desperate to explain herself. "It just happened, much as I tried to deny it."

"I know, Beckett. I wouldn't have hired you if I thought that. Harris told me that you've been exemplary, that you haven't let it get in the way of your job."

She pauses when she hears that stoic Agent Harris went to bat for her. "Are you saying he knew?"

Rancic nods. "He noticed. But Alexis loves you and he didn't think another agent would be good enough for her detail. So he kept quiet."

"Please don't punish him by taking him off Alexis's detail. He's so good for her; he won't let anyone harm a hair on her head."

"Agent Harris's assignment is my determination but I'll take that into account." Kate nods her thanks. "You've been a good agent, Beckett, I'm sorry to lose you."

"I'm sorry to have let you down."

Rancic shrugs. "By all accounts, your charge is better for having you as part of her detail. I don't feel let down."

"Thank you for the opportunity, sir."

The man nods in acknowledgement. "You've already met your detail," he tells her, motioning toward the door where she assumes Davies and Holder are waiting for her.

"Is that really necessary?"

"You know it'd be protocol for any woman he's dating. You're no exception." She sighs but nods in understanding. "The President's set up with the senior staff in the Roosevelt Room; they can escort you there if you like."

"Can I see him privately first?"

"I think that can be arranged."

* * *

Kate's pacing a path though the carpet of the private study attached to the Oval Office when Rick enters. She halts at the sound of the door, turning towards him with her lip caught between her teeth in thought.

"Do you know my code name is Heat?" she blurts out when she sees him. "What kind of a name is that? The guys say it's because I handle a gun well but it sounds like a stripper name."

"Rook and Heat," he muses as he strolls towards her. "Sounds like a crime solving duo."

That draws some amusement from her, a short, breathy laugh escaping her lips. He raises a hand to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, smiling as his touch causes her eyelids to flutter closed for a moment.

"Hi," he whispers when her eyes meet his.

"Hi." She folds into him, her arms coming around his waist as she buries her face in his chest.

He smooths his hands over her back, dips his head to place a kiss to her temple. "Five months. We had a pretty good run."

She jerks back so suddenly that her skull knocks into his chin, slamming his teeth together. He's taking stock of potential damage, rotating his jaw back and forth when her venom filled voice stops him cold.

"So, what, that's it?! Five months and now that everyone knows we're just done?"

Oh. _Oh._ He did not say that well.

"No, no no no," he placates, gripping her biceps and gaining her attention back. "That's not what I meant. I meant that we flew it under the radar for five months. We're not done, I don't want to be done, Kate. I don't ever want to be done with you."

His hands fall from her arms as she raises them to drape around his neck, her mouth a brutal assault against his. He breathes his relief into her mouth, holding her close as he kisses her in return.

"I don't ever want to be done with you either," she murmurs against his cheek.

He holds her tight for a long moment, the sounds of their breathing filling his ears. Until there's a shuffle in the hall. He likes this study for its privacy – no entry from the main corridor, fairly well insulated from sound – so if someone's out there, they're there deliberately. Kate hears it too, pushing back from him to turn toward the door. He hears it again, low murmuring and a shuffle of feet. They inch towards the door until they can hear a whispered argument through the wood.

"You knock!"

"No, you!"

"I don't want to!"

"One of us has to tell him!"

Rick swings the door open then, revealing two very rattled aides. "Tell me what?"

"There's, uh, been a development, Sir."

* * *

He takes her hand as they enter the Roosevelt Room, aiming to project a united front to his staff. He's glad to know that they've all been supportive behind the scenes but he needs them to know that they're in this for the long haul.

"What's going on?"

He doesn't need an answer as his ex-wife's face is filling the screen of every television in the room, which means that everyone is covering her; crawls along the screen proclaim "Ex-First Lady gives statement re: the President's mistress." Kate's hand tightens in his and he tries to squeeze back reassuringly but with as angry as he is, he's not sure it's working. Anita turns up the television that they're gathered around and Meredith's voice fills the room.

"And I just hope that my sweet daughter hasn't been exposed to this tawdry affair that's going on under the roof of her very own home. It's bad enough that she's exposed to Kate Beckett every day, I mean, who knows what awful lies she could be telling Alexis?" Meredith pauses for dramatic effect, dabs under her eyes with a tissue that's handed to her before continuing. "I implore the American people to pray that my daughter will be able to come out this mess unscathed. Thank you."

Kate is seething, already eyeing a vase on the other side of the room as something satisfying to smash in lieu of Meredith's face.

"How did she get out ahead of us?" he demands.

"Hannah's checking that now," an aide squeaks as everyone scrambles.

"Why are they calling it an affair?" He turns at Kate's question, his heart cracking at how hard she's holding herself together. She's doing really well; people who don't know her would only think that she's angry but he can see the hurt in her eyes, the tremble of her body more pain than fury. "I'm not your _mistress_." She hisses the word with disgust.

He sighs, dropping back to sit on the edge of the table. "Polls still show that the majority of Americans think that I should be mourning my marriage. To their eyes, an eleven year marriage only ended two years ago."

She nods, sad but understanding. "And they don't know that it was over long before that."

"Exactly. We spun it that way intentionally. Got me more sympathy if she suddenly stepped out then if I knew for years and didn't do anything."

She shifts closer to him, nudging herself between his knees and raising a hand to trail over his face. "You didn't do nothing."

"I know that," he answers, his hands coming up to frame her hips, his heart hammering in his chest at how well she understands him. "And you know that. And everyone in this room knows that. But this is the machine that is the White House. This is what we're going to have to fight every day. And…" he drops his eyes, takes a deep breath, "and this is where you can get off if it's too much."

Both of her hands are on his face now, cupping his jaw to raise his face to hers. "Richard Castle, I am in this. Stop trying to give me an out. I don't want one."

He presses forward to kiss her, firm but brief, aware of the other people in the room but also not really caring either. He truly doesn't know what he did to deserve her but he is so grateful for the opportunity to be hers. He knows that the secret being out will bring its own challenges (already has), but it's a relief as well to know that he doesn't have to look over his shoulder anymore.

"Mr. President?" Alex calls.

"Get used to lots of interruptions, too." He winks at Kate as he stands to face his speechwriter. "You have a draft?"

"A few of them, if you have a minute to pick one."

"Let's go in the Oval." He turns back to Kate, "Come with? This is about both of us, I'd like your input as well."

"Of course," she replies with a dazzling smile.

* * *

He's nervous as he sorts through his ties for the perfect one to wear, his fingers tripping aimlessly over the fabric. He's made some big speeches before, hell, State of the Union is next week but this, this seemingly simple statement has him rattled. He's so scared to say something wrong, so worried that he won't be able to relay what Kate means to him and his daughter.

Kate reaches past him and plucks a rarely worn purple tie from the back of the rack. "This one," she says decisively, turning him toward her and standing his collar up to lay the tie around his neck. "No blue, no red today, you're not making a political statement, you're not going out there with an agenda for a particular party, you're not even going out there as the President, you're just a man." She cinches the knot and smooths his collar back down.

He shakes his head, reaches up to pull her hands off his neck and hold them in his. "I'm more than that, I'm a man in love." Her eyes flutter shut on sigh, her body swaying closer to his. "I know I haven't said it since that night we fought, but I've felt it every day. I know exactly when, too."

Her eyes pop open to meet his, inquisitive as her head cocks to the side. "When?"

"That Sunday night in Camp David. When we talked for hours about nothing and everything. When it all fell away and we were just Rick and Kate for a while."

Her mouth twists and her eyes drop from him. "And then I ruined it."

He shrugs. "That's why I was so hurt. Because I was falling in love with you and I couldn't figure out how to get past your defenses to tell you."

She could apologize, but she's done that many times over. So she offers him something else instead. "I can't pinpoint it. For me, I think it might have started the very first day I met you." She raises her eyes to his, his silence unusual and finds his eyes widened in surprise. "I tried to call it a crush for a long time but it was always more than that."

"So you're saying that you fell in love with me because I was holding a lightsaber?"

She laughs, untangling one of her hands to swat it against his chest. "No, not the lightsaber. It was the way you were with Alexis, the easy way that you loved her. It made it really easy to want to be loved that way and to love you in return."

He kisses her so suddenly that she doesn't even have time to reciprocate before he's pulling back to press his forehead to hers. "I love you, Kate."

"I love you, too."

* * *

It's risky to do it like this. He hates dragging Alexis into it but the girl insisted once she found out what her mother had said about Kate. So here they stand in a cramped hallway, ready to ambush the press briefing that Hannah's fielding right now.

"Hey," Kate calls softly from behind him and he twists to face her. "You got this." She brushes a kiss to his lips and that simple touch is enough to calm his nerves. She is worth this risk.

"Ready, Sir?" the Deputy Press Secretary asks and he nods.

They round the corner as one, the shout of "The President" causing the room to explode as they step onto the small stage. Rick takes the podium and Kate and Alexis stand behind him and just a little to the right, conveying support. The cameras are blinding, the flashes glittering like gems, the cacophony of the reporters deafening. Kate feels Alexis's fingers nudging at hers and she opens her hand to let the girl slide hers in and she looks down to smile reassuringly, finds herself relaxing as Alexis smiles in return. Rick waves a hand to calm the reporters down and everyone slowly sits.

"I have a statement but we won't be doing any questions today." There's a roar of protest but he raises his hand again until the only sounds in the room are camera shutters. "What I have to say should answer them."

He launches into the statement that they agreed upon together, the one that's truthful but still maintains some privacy for them, doesn't shy away from admitting the relationship but doesn't give out a lot of details either. Kate knows that had they had to face this a week or so into their relationship, she would have crumbled under the stress. But as she listens to him talk about them, Alexis's hand in hers, she feels peaceful, completely confident that they can weather this.

He reaches the end of the words on the page but doesn't deliver them with finality, just folds the paper and looks up to address the room.

"I wasn't going to touch on this but I can't let the lies that my ex-wife is spreading stand. You guys know how protective I am of Alexis but she insisted that she be up here to support us. And I can't say no to her, so…" The press chuckles. "She loves Kate. And Kate loves her. And despite the odds against us, the three of us have created a little family." He twists his head to look at them for a moment, sharing smiles. "The last thing I have to say is, just, look…risking our hearts is why we're alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder 'if only.' I'm so glad I didn't. Thank you."

The reporters burst back into life as he turns to exit, shouting questions that he ignores. As he passes Kate and Alexis, his daughter reaches out to take his hand and the three of them exit the briefing room linked together.

* * *

They hug Alexis before heading back to what everyone has started calling The War Room. He offers his arm and she tucks her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk, nodding and thanking everyone that congratulates them or comments on his speech. But when they reenter the Roosevelt Room, the mood is more grim than expected and Aaron beelines for them.

"Director Taylor is waiting for you in the Oval. They found the leak," he informs them and Rick and Kate immediately turn to head across the hall. "But, maybe…" He trails off as they turn back and he takes a breath before directing his words at Rick. "Maybe just you. Sir." He clears his throat, fidgets under their twin stares.

"Aaron, we have been friends a long time so I am going to assume that you're having a stupid moment. You know me. If this was a meeting about Iranian foreign policy, I wouldn't dream of letting Kate in that room. And I know you don't know Kate yet, but she wouldn't try to weasel her way in. That's not the kind of person she is. But this? Today? This directly affects her. She was fired from her job today because of this. She's coming in there."

"I'm sorry." The Chief of Staff seems genuinely humbled. "This is new to me."

"It's new to all of us," Kate offers with a small smile.

"Can we start over?" He offers his hand to Kate. "Aaron Marks, Chief of Staff, Rick's college roommate, and one hell of a pool shark."

Kate takes his hand in a firm shake. "Kate Beckett, formerly NYPD, formerly Secret Service. I can run a six minute mile on a good day."

"Don't ever go running with him, he'll never keep up," Aaron tells her with a wink.

"Hey!" Rick protests and they chuckle at him. "I don't like you two talking." They only grin in response.

"Nice to meet you, Kate."

"Same, Aaron."

The Chief of Staff turns his attention back to the President. "Sir, Director Taylor," he reminds with a jut of his chin.

Rick sighs. "Right."

The FBI Director rises when they enter the room, shakes both of their hands in greeting. Danny Parsons, the White House photographer sits at the end of a sofa, pointedly avoiding eye contact and twisting his fingers together nervously. Rick shoots a confused look at Danny, then back to Director Taylor but the man simply motions for them to sit.

"As I'm sure you've been told," Taylor starts as they lower themselves to opposite sofa. "We've located the source of the photo leak." He glances to the end of the sofa.

"Danny?" Rick sounds betrayed and sad and Kate places her hand on his knee for support.

"It's not like that, Sir. They hacked me. They got all of them." The man is practically in tears, his tongue tripping over the words in their desperate attempt to get out.

Taylor nods, confirming the story and passing over a folder. "Danny was keeping a folder of photos on his computer of the two of you."

Rick flips open the folder to reveal a glossy stack of 8X10 photos, all of them of he and Kate over the last year. Kate shifts to place her chin on his shoulder as he looks through them one by one. There's some from events early on when they did little more than look at each other a little too long. There's some from July 4 when they were dancing to the Black Eyed Peas, Alexis less of a buffer than she had thought. There's also one from the end of the day when Alexis had asked Kate to sit with them. She thought Danny had moved on at that point but their heads are perfectly silhouetted by bursts of fireworks. There's a series from Camp David, shots of her talking to him while he grilled and the smiles they're giving each other make it obvious how close to the edge of starting something they really were. A few photos show the three of them at movie night; both Rick and Kate leaned toward Alexis while they all laugh at something though Kate can't remember what now. The recent ones are from the gala. Danny managed to capture the moment when Rick asked her to dance and when she accepted. It's like a flipbook as the photos follow them out to the dancefloor and they reposition so they're not so close together before they move around the floor. Their eyes are locked on each other in every single photo and at the time, Kate thought people were looking at her because of what she was wearing but she sees now that how much they love each other was what drew everyone's attention.

Rick flips to the last photo on the stack and Kate gasps, reaching out to trace a finger over her own face. This one was taken after they danced and she was walking back to Alexis. Except she had stopped to look back for a moment and Danny had caught it. The people in the foreground, including Rick, were fuzzed out of focus but Kate was in the background in sharp relief. The longing in her eyes is obvious but she still has a small, hopeful smile on her face. It's exactly how she was feeling in that moment and the fact that it's on film is no small miracle.

"I need a frame for that one," Rick whispers and she knocks her shoulder into his, a blush staining her cheeks.

"You've been taking these?" he asks Danny.

The man nods. "No one notices the photographer but I saw what was happening. I started saving them and figured that if you did get together, I could give them to you but if not, no harm, no foul. Except I apparently messed it all up."

"Is there anyone that we kept this secret from?" Rick mutters.

"Not as far as I can tell," Director Taylor interjects.

"But if they got all of these, why is only one photo in the media?" Kate asks.

"The hackers released the one as a tease and are selling the rest to the highest bidder." Taylor's distaste is evident.

"What if we release them?" Rick asks. "There's nothing in here I'm ashamed of," Kate nods in agreement, "so what if we just set them loose?"

"We can arrange that."

"Can you get the files to Hannah so she can put together a press release?"

"I can give them to her right now." He produces a USB drive from his jacket pocket.

"Can we get a copy of those?" Kate asks and he turns to her, a little shocked that she's being this sentimental about it. "I like the one from July fourth," she tells him with a shrug and he plants a kiss on her cheek.

"I'll make sure it's arranged," Director Taylor tells her with a twinkle in his eye. He's never seen that look on the gruff director before.

His girlfriend is magic.

* * *

Rick trudges down the hall to his bedroom well past Alexis's bed time but he trusts that Kate tucked her in well enough for the both of them. It was a long morning and even though the worst of the "scandal" (he hates that descriptor in this situation) was over before noon, he still had a full day of actual Presidential work to complete. And tomorrow will be spent playing catch-up from all the things pushed back today in-between tomorrow's already full schedule.

Yet despite all that, the reason for why his schedule is such a mess right now makes him smile. He loves that they had the time that they did in private. But now, _now_ , Kate can come with him to events, she can visit him in the Oval Office without pretense, she can come and go from the Residence as she pleases. Oh, she can walk him to work. He likes the idea of that one.

He pauses as he realizes that she can do most of these things because she no longer has a job to go to. She won't spend her days with Alexis any longer. And he can't imagine that she's the kind of woman that's content being "kept." He actually shudders at that thought because it does not sit right on Kate Beckett at all. They'll have to brainstorm something she can do. There has to be a committee she'd be suited for. His tired brain is too low on fuel to figure that one out tonight.

She's sitting up in bed reading a book when he comes in the room and he heads straight for her, splaying his tired body across her lap. She chuckles, placing her bookmark and setting the book on the nightstand, bringing her hands back to run through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. He hums, almost a purr and she chuckles again.

"You'd think you had a long day or something," she teases and he can only give a muffled affirmation in response. "C'mon." She nudges him to sit up and he hauls himself up until he's slumped on the edge of the bed. She slips from under the covers and comes to stand in front of him, unknotting the purple tie that she picked out for him this morning, then swiftly unbuttons his shirt and pushes it from his shoulders. She squats down to take off his shoes and socks and then goes for his pants, unbuckling his belt and unfastening and unzipping his pants.

"Trying to get me naked?" he mumbles.

She raises an eyebrow at him, swirls a finger around his belly button and then down the path of hair that leads straight to his groin, slips her fingers under the waistband of his boxers and stops just short of where he'd like her to continue.

"Like I need to try," she husks and for a moment his exhaustion melts away, raging lust roaring through him, but it passes just as quickly.

"Don't do that when I'm too tired to do anything about it." He is completely aware of how whiny that came out but honestly, she's not playing fair.

She brushes a kiss to his forehead. "Sorry. C'mon, stand up, let's get you around to your side."

He stands and let his pants pool on the floor, taking her hand to step out of them. He lets her lead him around the bed, waits while she pulls back the covers so he can slip between the sheets. He lets out a groan as he relaxes, so happy to not have to support his weary bones anymore. She pulls the covers up over him and pads to the door to close it before coming to slip in beside him, clicking off the light to bathe the room in velvet darkness. She slides a hand into his hair again, rhythmically running her fingers through his locks and he quickly races towards the oblivion of sleep.

"Rick?" her whisper cuts in just before he tumbles over the edge. "I love you."

He smiles, hums contentedly and fumbles a hand toward her until it finds purchase on her thigh. "Love you," he slurs, sleep claiming him a moment later.

* * *

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkieryan_


	12. Chapter 12

"I know this is rather unorthodox," Kate begins as she takes a seat on the other side of Director Taylor's desk. "I appreciate you being willing to meet with me."

"I hear nothing but good things about you. Director Rancic speaks highly of you. And it sounds like Roy Montgomery is still a little angry that you were stolen away. He's convinced that you were going to be his best detective."

Kate chuckles softly at that. Roy told her the same when she gave her notice. He made it clear that he was proud of her and he thought she made a good decision but his disappointment was palpable. She thinks it would have been nice to work with him, learn from his expertise.

"You said you had some evidence on a case?" The FBI director's voice shakes her from her musing but his question causes the butterflies in her stomach to take flight.

"Yes, I have some forensic findings on a handful of cold cases that might be related and I was wondering if the FBI would be interested in looking into it." She pulls two folders from her messenger bag, handing over one but keeping the other in her lap. "In 1999, there were four murders within 5 months of each other, all the same COD, a stabbing in a pattern that was designed to look random but upon further investigation, isn't at all."

"Surely that many that close together would have triggered something for the NYPD," Taylor comments as he looks over Dr. Murray's findings on Diane Cavanaugh's murder.

"You would think so, but they're all the investigations were closed, all of them attributed to gang violence with no suspects arrested." Taylor turns to the final report in the folder and Kate forces in a breath through her nose as he scans the name and turns to her with a quizzical look. "Including my mother's case."

She hands over the other folder with no small amount of hesitance, her anxiety ratcheting up exponentially as the man flips through the file that she's looked at hundreds of times. "That's everything the NYPD has on her murder." Taylor raises an eyebrow at her and Beckett marvels at how well he's able to demand answers to questions without even uttering a word. "Montgomery caught me in the records room going over it one night. He gave me a copy when I moved here. It's what drove me to become a cop. I've always thought that there had to be more to it. And now," she points to the first folder, "I know that there is."

"From what I'm seeing, this could very easily be gang related or possibly even mob related and could probably be handled by the gang task force or the organized crime division. Are you sure it wouldn't be better if the NYPD looked into this?"

"The forensic pathologist created a 3D model of the murder weapon. It's Special Forces. Don't you think that's enough to warrant a federal case?"

"Then maybe this is more the military's jurisdiction."

Beckett sucks her cheek between her teeth to stop herself from yelling in frustration. He wants her to fight for this? Fine.

"It's unlikely that the murders were committed while the murderer was still active. But if we uncover evidence on the contrary to that, we can turn it over."

The director closes the files in front of him, settling back in his seat. "We?"

 _Damn it, Beckett, you showed your hand._ Time to own up.

"No one knows this case like I do. I'd like to be brought on as a consultant."

"And will you be getting an executive order if I refuse?"

"No," she grinds out between gritted teeth. "That is not the kind of person that I am. I've no intention of using my personal relationship with the President in regard to this. I'm simply asking you, as a child that lost a mother and as a former cop, to allow me the chance to see this out to the end."

Taylor shifts forward again, rests his forearms on the desk, clasps his hands together and scans her with critical eyes. She remains where she is, doesn't allow herself to wither under his gaze and after a moment he nods.

"Consultant only. That means that you're not privy to new evidence, only that your expertise as to the intricate details of these seemingly related cases will be utilized. Is that understood?"

It's a blow, to not be in on the discovery side of it but if she can provide anything that will help the pieces fall into place, she'll do it. "Understood, sir."

He stands and offers her his hand and she pushes to her feet to accept.

"Welcome to the FBI, Ms. Beckett."

Not Officer. Not even Agent anymore. It's a brand new world.

* * *

It's a frustrating world.

Something's happened, she knows that it has. A week into the investigation and Green and Diaz are scrambling all of a sudden but they won't tell her why. She's helpless, stuck in a meeting room surrounded by all the things that she already knows while she watches them through the glass walls as they're both on their desk phones.

They're good agents, analytical, dedicated, and Kate feels confident in their abilities to finally crack this wide open. They found John Raglan, were making arrangements to go see him and now…

Oh no.

Fuck this, she wasn't made for sitting still and she certainly didn't have the career she had by sitting put when she was told to. She pushes through the door and approaches Diaz's desk. The woman has her back to Beckett, doesn't even hear her approach with how engrossed in her phone call she is.

"So, you still have nothing?" The FBI agent drops her forehead into her palm as she listens to the answer. "Of course, I understand this takes time, Detective. Do you need us to come up there and help?" The agent sits up straight at what's said on the other end, her jaw setting tight. "Well, I didn't mean officially but we are talking about the murder of a person of interest in a federal case so if you want to go down that road, we can."

Kate drops to the edge of a nearby desk as her knees go weak. That is what has them scrambling. The detective that handled her mother's case, the detective that told her that her mother was dead, is now dead himself.

The slam of Diaz's phone shakes Beckett from her fog and she turns her head to find the agent glaring at her.

"You're not supposed to be out here."

Beckett shrugs. "I got bored."

"So, I guess you heard that." It's not a question.

"They don't have any leads?"

Diaz narrows her eyes for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Detective Esposito says that they've conducted a few interviews but nothing concrete yet."

"How was he murdered?"

"Sniper got him from across the street of the diner he was having breakfast in. Doesn't seem to be a coincidence that we were set to meet with him tomorrow."

"No, that it doesn't," Beckett agrees on a murmur.

"Even though it's an active case, Esposito is sending over interview notes so that we don't come up there and take over. It's a stopgap and he knows it but if it gets us more information, I'll take it. Now, get back in that room and act like you don't know any of this and I'll show you what we have when we get it."

Beckett smiles briefly, grateful that she's not as relegated to the sidelines as she had feared and slips back into the meeting room while she tries to calm her racing heart.

Raglan wouldn't have been murdered if he didn't have something to tell. She just has to hope that someone else knows what it was.

* * *

She drags her feet over the threshold of the elevator as she exits, too tired to even care that she's probably scuffing her shoes in the process. It's late, past eleven and, maybe it's terrible, but she hopes that Rick is already asleep so that she can just avoid talking tonight.

But she finds him sitting up in bed, scanning a document in a manila file folder that he quickly sets aside when she appears in the doorway. He slides off the bed and pads over to meet her but she brushes him off, kicks her shoes off in the middle of the room and digs in the dresser for something to sleep in.

Except she realizes that what she's really looking for is something that she can travel home in. Not that she hasn't settled in here, not that she isn't comfortable in his home, as comfortable as one can be when they live part-time in the White House but tonight she needs the familiarity of her things, the quietness of her own space.

He's sitting on the end of the bed when she turns around, the corners of his lips quirking up for a moment before he sees her face. She can only imagine how haggard she looks, how exhausted and defeated she feels.

"Do you want me to run you a bath or…?"

She does smile at that, at how sweet and caring he can be and she feels guilty for a moment. But he knows this about her, knows that she sometimes just needs alone time. And tonight is one of those times.

"I think I'm going to have the guys take me home, actually. It was a long day and I don't want to keep you up with my tossing and turning."

"Kate, you know I don't mind." He stands and crosses to her, takes the yoga pants and t-shirt from her hands and tosses them on the bed before turning back to her and sliding the jacket from her shoulders, unbuttoning her shirt to follow suit. He collects the t-shirt from the bed and slides it over her head, lets her put her arms through the holes. He watches as she shimmies out of her pants and replaces them with the soft jersey of the yoga pants.

"I know," she answers finally, lifting on tiptoes to smudge her mouth to his briefly as she passes him to deposit her clothes in the hamper. "But I do. I don't want to be the reason that you fall asleep during an important meeting tomorrow."

"Someone always takes notes," he says flippantly and she shakes her head at him until he grins but the mirth is fleeting. "You don't have to go."

She nods sadly. "I do tonight. It's for the best."

He drops his head and sighs, defiance in the exhalation and she braces herself for a fight that she does not want to have this late. Besides, they've had this fight already and she thought he understood, thought that he knew that sometimes, she doesn't like the person that she is and she doesn't want to subject him to it. And she knows that right now, with the burden of her mother's case hanging heavy over her head, she is not going to be anything that resembles good company.

But then he lifts his face back to hers and she's relieved to see a soft smile adorning his mouth. "Do you need me to call them?"

She drifts toward him, a hand rising to run through his hair, her fingers settling against the side of his throat. "No, I can," she says with her eyes on his lips before drawing his head down to kiss him firmly in thanks.

* * *

She does take a bath at home, the warm, soapy water and glass of wine doing little to alleviate her stress.

John Raglan is dead. The transcript of Vulcan Simmons interrogation had her blood boiling. Gary McCallister admitted to everything that they were in to. The NYPD detectives' visit to Joe Pulgatti revealed that there were three cops involved in the kidnapping ring and it was one of them that murdered Bob Armen. And no one will talk about the man behind the curtain, the one that's pulling all the strings.

Esposito reported that McCallister called him "The Dragon." In fairy tales, dragons raze cities, steal innocence. It's fitting.

Tomorrow, Green and Diaz are going to New York City to take a run at Hal Lockwood. Kate doesn't have a lot of faith that it will lead anywhere but at least it's something.

When the water goes lukewarm, she tugs the plug free with her toes and rises to step out of the tub. She dresses back into the clothes that she had put on at Rick's; the t-shirt is one of his and she finds the worn cranberry fabric comforting.

She's finishing the last of her wine when her phone rings, the shrill sound so unexpected at quarter to one in the morning that she jumps, almost inhaling the wine. The number isn't one that she knows but it's a New York area code and she's intrigued enough to answer.

"Beckett."

"Kate Beckett, I was hoping you'd be up. This is Roy Montgomery."

"Of course, sir, how are you? Something on the case I can help you with? Though you should be calling the FBI with that."

"No, it's, uh, it's not like that."

His tone makes her pause. He sounds caged, his voice carefully measured but she can hear the frantic and desperate notes that leak through.

"What can I do for you, Captain?"

"It's what I can do for you. Everyone close to this case is getting deader by the minute and I," he stops, gulps loud enough that she can hear it over the line. "Well, I don't want to join them."

"What do you know?" Despite her best efforts, her voice is strained, forced out through a closed throat that she has to fight to get air through.

"I have something for you, but you need to come to New York to get it."

"When?"

"As soon as possible."

Her first reaction is to say that she'll be on the first flight out but her life isn't that simple anymore. She has a Secret Service detail, she's the President's girlfriend and people know her face, her name.

But before any of that, she was a heartbroken nineteen year old girl and for the sake of that girl, she'll do whatever it takes.

"I'll call you when I get into town."

"Only call this number, no others that you might still have for me."

"Okay," she agrees, knows that they both know what he's telling her without saying it and it cranks her curiosity higher. "I'll see you soon, Roy."

"I hope so, Beckett."

The line goes dead in her ear and she jumps into action.

* * *

She feels bad for slipping her detail, she knows that the guys will get in trouble for this but she'll stand up for them once she's back. It's not fair really, she knows the protocol, knows the rotation that they'll take and she's using that information against them. It's the agency's fault for not changing it up.

She's pretty sure Rancic won't go for that explanation though.

She doesn't want to pack a bag, is hoping to just go see what Roy has and then head straight back but she packs a small duffel just so she won't look too suspicious. She dresses in jeans and laces up her chucks, but leaves Rick's t-shirt on, throws a hoodie over it, and as the sleeves fall past her hands, she belatedly realizes it's another of his pieces of clothing that she's acquired.

He's going to be so mad at her for doing this.

She waits by the front door until she hears Davies push into the stairwell to head down and switch out Holder. She slips out quietly, locking the door behind her and hitting the elevator call button. It opens immediately as expected, protocol dictating that it stays at the level of the agent so that he or she can know when it's called down. She enters the car and holds the door open, counts a long 5 beats before closing the door and letting the car descend. This is the riskiest part, trying to time it so that she doesn't exit the elevator while either of the agents is in the lobby to see her. She flattens herself against the wall as the arrival at the ground floor dings and she moves carefully around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief when there's no one there. But with no time to waste, she moves quickly to the back door and slips through yards and alleyways to meet a taxi a few streets over.

* * *

She turns her phone on when the plane lands in New York City, wincing as alert after alert lights up the screen. She ignores almost all of them, save one. Tapping out a quick _I'm safe, see you soon_ , she sends the message off to Rick and pockets her phone to deplane.

She finds a taxi out front and tells the driver to head towards Staten Island as she calls Montgomery.

"Kate?" He's in a full on panic, her name breathed down the line like salvation.

"I just landed, can you text me your address?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that."

"Ok, I'll see you in about an hour?"

"See you then."

A text lights up the screen a few moments later and she relates the specific address to the driver, the man grunting in acknowledgement.

"The faster you get me there, the bigger the tip."

She's thrown back against the seat as the car accelerates.

* * *

Montgomery opens the door with a gun in his hand, his eyes wide and wild. It throws her firmly into crisis mode and she's conscious to keep her hands visible, her body language relaxed and her eyes soft.

"Ok Roy, I'm here, what do you have for me?" She speaks softly and tries to maintain eye contact but it's impossible when his are darting everywhere.

He ushers her in and locks the door, shuffles her down the hall to a small study. The curtains are pulled tight over the windows, a lamp on the desk the only source of illumination.

She's trying, she really is but this is all becoming too much. She hasn't slept in over twenty-four hours and her normally stout internal filter is just about shot. He needs to start talking before she demands answers.

"Kate, I'm not going to jail for this. I can't put my family through that."

"Go to jail for what?" It comes out sharper than she anticipated but it seems to break him out of his paranoia some, his eyes clearing a bit and taking a look of guilt instead of fear.

"I know that you know that there was a third cop that was working with Raglan and McCallister…" He trails off and her breath quickens as her heart threatens to pound out of her chest. He can't mean…

"I was a rookie when it happened, Beckett. McCallister and Raglan were heroes to me. I believed in what we were doing. We were just going to snatch Pulgatti that night. Bob Armen wasn't even supposed to be there. Armen reached for my gun. That's when I heard the shot. I didn't even know it was my gun that went off until Armen went down. Then McCallister pulled me into the van. I remember him saying, 'It's okay, kid. It's not your fault. Happens in this town every day.' McCallister and Raglan tried to drown it. But not me. I put it all into the job, Kate. I became the best cop I could be. And then, when you walked into the 12th, I felt the hand of God. I knew he was giving me another chance, and I thought, 'If I could protect you the way I should've protected her.'"

Breathing is an effort, every ounce of air drawn into her lungs a challenge but she has to ask, "Did you kill my mother?"

"No, that was years later. But she died because of what we did that night."

"Then who killed her?"

"I don't know how, but somehow he figured out what we had done. But he could have turned us all in. Instead, he demanded the ransom money. He took that money to become what he is and, God forgive me, but that may be my greatest sin."

It's not an answer and his double talk is making her all the more angry. "Give me the name. You owe me that, Roy."

"I'll give you more than that." He lifts a thick manila envelope from his desk and Kate can't help but flash back to when Rick gave her a similar envelope. "It's all in here, everything that I've collected on him over the years. It should be enough to bring him down."

She wipes sweaty palms on her jeans and reaches for the packet. He lets her fingers curl around it but doesn't release his grip.

"Do not open this until you are somewhere safe. Once you've seen what's in it, you'll be even more of a target than you already are."

She opens her mouth to protest but the look in his eyes has the words dying in her throat. She's waited years, she can wait a few more hours. She nods acquiesce and he relinquishes his hold.

And then it's hers. Everything she needs to get justice for her mother is cradled against her chest and she could weep with relief.

"You have to go."

* * *

She shoves her small carry-on under the seat in front of her for the return flight, isn't willing to risk placing it overhead with what's resting at the bottom of it now. She's exhausted, her bones like jelly and her eyes burning with the effort of staying open. But she can't sleep, not now, not yet.

She pulls her phone out as she waits for the other passengers to settle and scrolls through her messages, pausing at a text from her father. Rick had to have reached out to him, her dad never texts her. She lets him know that she's alright and promises to call him later.

There's a handful more messages from Rick, she should have known that her short reassurance from earlier was anything but reassuring. _Just boarded a flight back to D.C._ , she starts but somehow it looks wrong. She deletes _to D.C._ and changes it to _home_. That feels more proper. Not that the city is home, she's still adjusting to that but where Rick and Alexis are, she's home. She adds _Love you_ and turns off the phone as soon as the message is sent.

* * *

Green and Diaz are waiting for when she exits the airport and neither of them looks happy.

"You better have a good reason for this, Beckett," Green snaps as soon as she's near.

"You have a car?" They don't have time for her to be berated in the middle of joyful reunions and jostling tourists.

Green just turns and stalks off, Beckett and Diaz in his wake.

"Are you going to tell us what this little jaunt was all about now?" he asks as he pulls out into traffic.

"Are we headed to the office?"

"Jesus Beckett, just answer a damn question!"

She's not even offended by the outburst. "In the bottom of my carry-on should be everything we need to take down The Dragon."

Silence reigns in the sedan until Green pushes a few buttons on the console and a phone ring sounds through the speakers.

"Taylor."

"Sir, we have Beckett in tow and will need a secure room when we arrive."

"For?"

"We'll advise once there."

"Fine. Shall I inform the President?"

"No," Beckett answers sharply. Both agents shoot her a look. "I'll talk to him. He knows I'm safe."

Taylor huffs. "I'm not so sure he does. I'd talk to him sooner rather than later. You're lucky he didn't call the Governor to deploy the National Guard."

She closes her eyes and sighs. "I'm sorry. I'll call him."

"See that you do. How far out?"

"Twenty or thirty minutes depending on traffic," Green answers.

"Keep me updated." The line clicks off, the sound of the road the only noise in the car once more.

It's then that she realizes that she never turned her phone back on and once she does, she sees the frantic messages from her boyfriend, begging to know where she's on a flight from and how long it would be until she landed. Shame washes over her and she sighs; how could she ever expect him not to panic when she provided so little information?

The line barely rings once before he answers, a breathless "Kate?" bringing tears to her eyes. She really needs sleep if just hearing his voice is enough to have her almost crying.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's, well, it's whatever, where are you?"

She's so glad that he didn't say it's fine, because it's not, she knows that it's not. She's not sure she can be sorry for what she did but she is sorry for any pain that it caused him. "On 267. We're headed back to the Hoover Building. Rick," she breathes his name in wonder, "I have evidence."

"Of what?"

"Of everything. It's everything we need to end this." Well, Montgomery said it was. She didn't know the man long but the one that she saw today was unlike any other version she's encountered and she's sure that what he gave her, what he risked his life for, is exactly as advertised.

"You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I need some sleep but I'm fine."

"Come home, Kate, get some rest."

"I can't. Not yet. I owe it to her to see this out."

"At least let me come to you."

"Yes. Meet me there. Just…don't let anyone know why I was gone. Not yet. We don't know who this leads to."

"Kate, I thought you said-"

"I know what I said!" She hears the hysteria in her voice, knows that her lack of sleep is affecting her ability to function. She takes a breath, calms her racing heart. "Just…trust me?"

He takes a breath, lets it out through his nose and she can hear the worry in the exhalation. "Always," he promises.

"Okay." She sighs in relief, a little lightheaded and she props her elbow on her knee, drops her head in her hand. She misses him, wishes that he could wrap her in his arms and just let her rest for a minute. "I love you."

"I love you, too." His voice rumbles low in her ear and for a moment she can imagine that he's right beside her, his breath washing over her ear with the words. "I'll see you soon, Kate."

"See you soon."

* * *

When she wakes, she's disoriented and foggy, the dream loathe to leave her. And it makes her want to weep because it was everything she could have ever wanted, justice and relief and a sense of peace she wasn't sure she'd ever experience. And now she has to open her eyes and face another day.

She blinks her eyes open, confused to find herself in Rick's bedroom. Didn't she go home last night? His side of the bed is empty, a single red carnation lying on his pillow, a note card propped next to it. She reaches out a still groggy hand to collect the card.

 _K,_

 _I'm so proud of you._

 _~R_

And then it all comes rushing back. None of it was a dream, not the whirlwind flight to New York, not the file of everything they needed to take down Senator William Bracken, not his subsequent arrest from the Senate Floor.

The man that was responsible for her mother's murder is in jail.

She bounds from the bed, grinning and stretching her arms high over her head, arching her back to pull out the knots her heavy sleep instilled. She goes for coffee next, starts a fresh pot brewing but can't wait for it to be done so she bounces back to the bedroom, takes a shower and stands in front of the closet in a towel, scours the racks for something appropriate, something that fits her mood. She finds some dove gray pants in a soft fabric and a light blue top with a draping cowl. The colors remind her of the spring that's rolling in, of pristine skies dotted with wisps of clouds. She loves this time of year, loves that it drives out the dreariness of winter with its bursts of colors, loves to see the new life pushing through the earth.

Just like what she's pushing toward, a new life.

* * *

She practically skips over the lawn of the Rose Garden, the coffee cups in her hands the only things stopping her from doing so. It's silly and ridiculous, she's being silly and ridiculous but it's a beautiful day and she has reason to be in a great mood so why shouldn't she indulge in the feeling a little?

He greets her at the side door, opening it for her since her hands are otherwise occupied and she grins at him in thanks, a bright flash of her teeth that has his lips stretching across his face in response. She drops the coffees on his desk, turning to find herself swept into his arms, a giggle escaping her lips as he lifts her feet from the floor and spins her around.

She smacks a kiss to his mouth when he sets her down. "What was that for?"

He shrugs, an adorable blush staining his cheeks. "I was watching you and you looked so happy that it made me happy."

She grins again, her cheeks aching from it but she makes no move to tamp down her joy. There's no reason that she should. She collects the coffees from the desk and hands him one but as soon as she takes a sip, she knows that she got that wrong and snatches his from his grasp, quickly replacing it with one from her hand. It makes him laugh and she soaks up the sound, how light and free and happy it is. He takes a sip, humming as the flavor flows over his tongue.

"So what now?"

She's been wondering the same thing this morning and while she can't narrow down an answer yet, she does know one thing. "Now anything's possible."

* * *

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkielynn_


	13. Epilogue

Kate should be happy. She should be peaceful, fulfilled, proud, justified. And she is, she is all of those things but mostly she's empty.

Until William Bracken was sentenced to life without possibility of parole yesterday, her life had a purpose, a driving need to find justice for the way that her mother's life was cut short. And now she has it and there is a gaping hole in her existence that she hadn't anticipated.

Months ago when Bracken was arrested, Rick had asked her "what now?" and at the time, she thought the possibilities were endless but now? Now she has no idea how to answer that question.

* * *

He is so nervous; this is a huge risk, a big leap and a hell of an assumption. What if she hates it? What if she thinks he's crazy? What if she refuses?

He's pacing back and forth in front of the desk in the Oval when there's a soft knock on the door, Kate's head poking through a moment later and he breaks out in a grin at the sight of her.

Everything's going to be fine as long as he can see that face every morning.

"You wanted to see me?" she asks as she closes the door behind her and walks across the room. She's confused, he's never done this before.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask your opinion on something, you have a minute?"

She rolls her eyes and huffs a sarcastic laugh as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You know I have nothing but minutes."

He reaches out and frees one of her hands, traps it between both of his. "I know, let me see if I can help with that."

Her brow furrows at him, adorable confusion washing over her face and he kisses her forehead, pulling away and tugging her towards one of side doors, takes her past the Rose Garden and into the main building of the White House. They walk straight through the Center Hall towards the East Wing and when they pass the elevator and both sets of stairs without ascending, he feels her pause.

"Seriously, where are you taking me?" She says it with a laugh so he knows she's not annoyed.

"We're almost there," he assures her. Which isn't really true, they need to get to the complete other side of the building before they're really there. "Trust me?"

"Always."

He has to pause for that, swoop in and kiss her briefly before pushing through the door to the East Colonnade and escorting her through to the East Wing. Staff make way for them as they pass, nodding with a low "Sir" intoned but no one seems shocked to see him. Good, everyone was informed that they'd be coming. Which means they should have privacy for this next part.

He takes her upstairs and through the center corridor to the large office at the end of the hall, pausing outside the door and turning to her.

Her eyebrows are raised, practically in her hair line as she stares at him. "That's…" she trails off, waving an arm at the door.

"An unused office," he shrugs. "A lot of these are actually, since they're associated with this one." He swings the door open and waves a hand to indicate she should enter. She does, slowly, tentatively.

He closes the door behind her, lets her get her bearings and take in the room. There are file folders on the desk, file boxes stacked on a table against one wall and she turns to take it all in.

"Okay, what is going on?"

"I know you've been restless lately and you need something to do, so I came up with something." He wanders over to the table, runs a finger along one of the boxes. "There's a lot of cold cases out there, some involving cover ups, some involving lazy cops but all of them involving families that don't have justice." He turns to her, sees the understanding start to shine in her eyes. "And this office is just sitting here, unused. So, if you wanted to put it to use to form a task force to take on these cases…" He nods towards the boxes.

"I could do that?" she asks, breathless.

"Absolutely. I've already cleared a lot of hoops for you and there are some people that have offered their services but I told them that final decisions would be up to you. The folders on the desk there are personnel files; look through them and see if you'd like to interview anyone. And if none of them look right, you can start fresh. It'd be your team, your decision."

She starts toward him and he pushes off the table to meet her halfway. She kisses him fiercely, her arms wrapping around his neck as his arms encircle her waist.

"Thank you," she mumbles against his lips, shaking her head at herself and pulling back. "That's not right, not enough, not the right words, but thank you."

"There's a catch, though." He hates himself for the disappointment that swirls in her eyes and he quickly continues. "It's the First Lady's office and so," he reaches into his pocket, "it would help if you were the First Lady," he finishes, dropping to a knee and opening the jewelry box toward her. "Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you marry me?" She's staring at him, mouth agape and quiet a second too long. "You don't have to, you can have office either way, I just-"

"Stop," she cuts him off. "Yes. Yes to all of it. To this, to you, just…yes." She grips his biceps to pull him up to her, capturing his mouth with hers before he's even upright. He wraps his arms around her, pours everything he feels for her through the press of his lips, the work of his tongue.

She breaks off suddenly, choking back a sob and he cradles her to his chest to let her cry. It really wasn't fair of him to throw this many things at her at once. But she collects herself quickly, pushing off his chest to swipe at her eyes.

"Can I have my ring?"

"Oh my god, yes." He scrambles to pull it from the velvet bed of the box, slides it onto her waiting finger, raises her knuckles to his mouth to brush a kiss against them, and meets her eyes. "So, are you ready to be First Lady?"

"Honestly, I don't think so. But I'm ready to be your wife."

He swoops in and kisses her, the promise of forever in the press of his lips.

* * *

 _twitter: BerkieLynn_

 _tumblr: berkielynn_

 _A/N: My eternal and never ending gratitude to Lou for pushing me to be better and create better as I tackled this story. Thanks also to Bean and the squad for listening to me moan and complain when I got stuck. And thank you to all of you for all of your wonderful reviews and messages._


End file.
